The way of art

Happily beginning this year as the lower school art teacher. Full time. Dream come true. You can read all about it here. It means a new year, a new position and the never ending game of curriculum development.

I do love this part of teaching. Designing a path to guide students along, developing investigative questions, bookmarking resources, and imagining experiences is a huge part of what makes my work satisying. There is nothing easy or short about curriculum writing. It is bread made from scratch, fresh pasta rolling through the machine, pastels carefully flattened, lovingly stuffed and tenderly fried. Creating curriculum is a homemade Thanksgiving meal all the way to picking fresh cranberries from the backyard.

I have all the ingredients spread out on my desktop. Tabs are open to grade level documents, science and social studies year long overviews, national art standards, AREO art standards, my own visual art curriculum (a place for storing images and links to resources) and, finally, the Pre-K-5 yearlong art curriculum overview.

I switch back and forth between documents along with web resources such as art blogs, pintrest, educational journals and google images. I bookmark relevant artists, living and dead, local and international, well known and obscure. I'm looking to make art come alive by exposing students to ALL the possibilities in art. We're not all Rembrants and vanGoghs.

So what role does art have for us? This is just one of many questions that my students will spend the year exploring. What is the role of art in society? What is the responsibility of governments in safeguarding art and making it accesible to all? What role does art play in documenting and resolving conflict? How can art record history and uncover complexities in international and national relations? How does art contribute to unity and reconciliation?

More importantly, at this age, how does art play a role in my personal life? These are big questions and we only have 40 min. once a week to figure it all out. In addition, or concurrently, there is the teaching of technique- yes, art is a skill like reading or writing or mathematics and it can be learned and improved. It needs to be practised.

There is also exposure to historic works of art, artists and movements. On my physical desktop, I have lists of movements, illustrative works, and the must-haves in the art world. There are painters, sculptures, and illustrators. There is art history and contemporary art.

Aside from the planning of units and lessons, there is the learning of names. 214 + or -. When I might have had 2 Aishas, there are now 4. There are at least 7 Mariame, Mariama or Mariannes. And a whole host of names I can't even pronounce. I make phonetic notations but some 50 kids later, I've forgotten what my shorthand means. When the child (or the whole class) corrects me, I look at my notes and nod my head. Yup, that's exactly how I've written it and it still didn't make sense. I spend my class periods calling everyone by their name everytime I talk to them and sometimes I just walk around randomly telling them who they are.  Because nothing is worse than seeing them on the playground shouting out, "Hi Ms. Soumah!" and I can't say their name back.

I spend my lunch  duty walking around talking to kids about their meals, their names and any other random conversation starters in an attempt to remember. I know it will come, and it is by far easier to remember in the confines of the art room- it's just generalizing to the wider school context that presents a challenge.

I know from perusing art teacher blogs that many have it worse. They write of no sinks, no classrooms (I did do a stint of art on a cart way back when...)They have 1,000+ students (?!!) and 3 schools to shuffle between. The most incomprehensible-- 20 min. classes.

I don't even consider making art, personally, if I only have 20 minutes (maybe something to consider if I had a table and a studio space to just pop in and out of.) But art, and learning, is about getting into that zone- "the flow"- where time is lost and it's just you and the medium.

I wish I had time to help my students experience this at every art class. Time to look at art thoughtfully and learn the words to respond to elements that are striking and the time to discover what they like and don't like. We can't do it at every class, but I am realizing it is something I can build in consistently.

It is a journey. When we discussed "what is art?" during our first class session, I was delighted to see many kids were already reading the room. "Well, it says art is not a thing,"  they pointed to the quote on the wall. "Art is a way."

Year of the Teacher

School years tend to take on themes. At this point it feels as though I have lived through the Year Of--- in just about every topic. There was the Year Kids Kept Climbing Out the Window (and coming back in through the door, oddly enough. Not a real escape but rather an alternate expression of indecision.) That same year I thought for a moment an especially energetic young guy might actually win the scuffle with the panic button people. It was my first official teaching post and I realized in one brief, breathless moment I might need a panic button for my panic button. Or I could just win the kids over. It was the same year I taught poetry by Tupac and introduced students to authors who looked and sounded like them - curriculum design inspired by student need. We put court in session- a reader's theater that was all too real for most of them- and held passionate debates about Walter Dean Myer's Monster We read Maya Aneglou and Toni Morrison and  broke the taboo against all their private angst. Cutting was a thing then, too, so we turned to Patricia McCormack and followed her character Callie through her own cutting experience.  It turned out to be the Year of Opening My Eyes to the Power of Literature.

Other years followed.The Year of the Garden, The Year My Prinicpal Got Divorced (it was only afterward I found out that all the hell I'd been living through that year had an underlying cause...) There was my first year in Africa when I had the Class Who Loved to Read and Write as Much as Me- it was like we were made for each other. There really couldn't have been a better welcome to world of international teaching.  Of course, a few years later there came the Year of the Class Who Made Me Want to Run for the Hills shortly followed by the Year When My Colleague Actually Did Make Me Flee.

For awhile, I thought this year might turn out to be the Year of the Parents. By mid-October I'd already had several intense parent meetings and a heated exchange with a mother bear. Luckily, I have my own mother bear and it kicked in to protect a student who was the real focus of her anger. 

After some reflection, I don't think this year is going to be about parents however. It seems to be shaping up to be about me. And I don't mean I am taking over. This is one thing I have been noticing more and more and finding weirder and weirder--- the tendancy for teachers to use their classroom position to go on and on about themselves. To share stories of their lives that moves well beyond instructional purpose and hugs the border of narcissistic domain. I'm not doing that.

But I do feel free this year. The amount of singing and dancing going on in my science and math classes is probably a shade beyond normal. It might be something to do with age, or place, or maybe it is just this particular class that inspires something in me. But whenever I feel a dance or a song coming on I just go with it. I usually don't go too far with it- just a sample before I turn it over to them and say make this into something. Get back to me and we'll make a video.

They've already taken the X-Y Coordinate dance and choreographed a number to go along with Nae-nae (a little too catchy for me and it ends up in my head for days! "Now watch me X..x...x  Watch me Y. And watch me X...x...x...you get it....) Our 15 minute daily calendar warm up has turned into a full theater production complete with costumes, props and an Emcee host. It's wild. But it has them begging to do calendar, which is really just a review of skills like finding factors, solving equations, reviewing multiplication and decoding prime factorization.

So I'm going with it. We're doing everything and anything that seems exciting, worthwhile, silly, spontaneous, and interesting. Because the math needs spicing up and the science is just engaging enough to hold all of our attention, and---why not? I am finally comfortable in my skin and if the waning and waxing of the moon makes me imagine a modern dance move or a karate kid "wax on-wax off"- then why not share it- and the accent to go with?

I do recognize a bit of this is coming from a place that is searching for more. I am underwhelmed with the ordinariness of Abidjan and looking for something inspiring. I miss my kids at Stand Proud and I miss my nightly English classes with La Jeunesse. I miss doing something like making art with a real artist and dancing in a truope of young divas (even if I wondered what the heck I was doing there the whole time.) I miss pulling up to a carrefour and having a quick exchange with a pack of street kids. I miss seeing their faces and checking in on them and having them know me. I miss feeling connected.

So I've become a bit reckless and I dance in class occasionally, and sing in my off tune voice once in awhile and pull out all my theater tricks to enhance our school day hours together. We've recently smashed a cell phone or two in our search to uncover the workings inside. I've found an opening in the curriculum that allows me to take them down the path of Congo's minerals and the resulting conflict and devastation to a people. I feel passionate again for a moment. The Year of the Teacher. I'm going with it.

Footware

I've spent the last mind numbing hour looking at shoes. I'm forever wishing for a more stylish pair that might somehow offer comfort as well. I'm not shopping, however. Instead I am sitting through an infamous Monday meeting inspecting my colleagues' footwear. Their crisp, clean fashions leave me feeling dowdy and un-chic. I move on to noticing hairstyles and skin quality, trying to arrange people by age. I follow the conversation loosely, focusing more on accents and word formations than content.There is a certain way you must shape the mouth to get those French sounds out correctly and I notice the subtle differences. Perhaps it has to do with region of origin. France is a country after all, and my colleagues weren't necessarily neighbors there and they don't all come from Paris.

I know nothing about France and so I can't begin to sort them by geographical locations. Instead, I move on to jewelry. And eye wrinkles and laugh lines. I try to sort them into cliques and wonder who hangs out with who and what their differences are. I begin to notice some subtle (or, subtle to me at least. Everything is subtle coming through the haze of another language) signs of disagreement in philosophy and perspective. A rife among them. It is smoothed over with jokes and laughter in an attempt to ease rigid temperaments and restore professional harmony.

I tune back into content for a bit. This particular meeting is called the counseil du cycle and it involves teachers from each cycle meeting to discuss the students in their grade. Teachers present concerns, strategies attempted and propose solutions. In concept a great idea, in reality it risks turning into a complaining fest. The division occurs because a pair of teachers have recommended a student skip a grade and went ahead and got director and parent approval before the counseil had a chance to review. Members are not happy about this breach in protocol. Humor restores the collegiality but not before I've had a chance to witness who's who in each camp.

I spend some time trying to discern the different learning disabilities they speak of- this being my concentration. The super regulated Frech system of education appears to have a prescribed series of interventions for each dys-.

While it's all fascinating, I feel useless. I don't contribute to the conversation and have long since stopped  my inner commentary on the matters. No one asks for my opinion, nor is it ever expected. I ponder my desire to participate. Does it stem from having something new and genuine to contribute or just from a need to feed my ego? I spent the first half of the year nurturing my humility and stifling my natural tendancy to jump in with ideas from past experiences. I was overcome with the distinct sense that nothing I tried to share would be met with merit.

The second half of the year I have found myself feeling more disspirited by my uselessness. The Monday meetings are hard to sit through when I think of all the more efficient ways I could be using my time. While there are few expectations of the English teachers, I have implemented my version of best practices and programs - though I know students will not continue them the following year. I rejoice in gains students have made- and that are clearly shown on the assessments- but there is no one to share them with.

Contrary to popular image, teaching is not really me in my classroom alone, but me in a group of colleagues developing a continuum of learning that students follow- like a path through a forest of knowledge. Except in this case, my path is an ill used short cut, over grown with weeds and tangled briars. We've chopped our way through to a fairly decent clearing but there is no one to lead them on from here.

I turn back to the footwear. There is an assortment of high heels, cushy soles and flip flops. All that's missing is a decent pair of hiking boots.

that curriculum post

I've been trying to figure out why the post about curriculum is taking so long, feels so hard and has become my number 1 procrastination item. Like all things that are hard to write about, I think the problem lies in getting bogged down by emotion.  I've been taking lessons from a friend in neutrality- and that's the best way to approach these heavy, emotion laden topics. So here are my observations about the Ivorian curriculum, from my somewhat sheltered perspective. (Another of those small, informal, highly unscientific reportings.)

Most of what I know comes from the textbooks. Both the Ivorian and French systems are heavy on texts. I've definitely had teaching moments where I just wished for a text. Something solid to follow that would alleviate some of my planning and guesswork. A path.

What I have been most impressed with in the texts are the examples given for each of the topics. At times it has even resulted in an "aha" moment. So this is how it's done.  We spent a lot of time at TASOK trying to devise 'real world' problems and 'authentic evaluations.' So much talk about making learning relevant. This school in Columbia seems to have found the sweet spot between presenting relative information and achieving a more active learning environment.

But looking at content only for a moment, there is a lot to be commended in the texts- written by Ivorians for Ivorian students. (The math text was actually a joint project between several African countries with the goal of creating a continental math program for Africans. Genius, really.)

The texts each offer a clear layout of presenting information, summarizing the main points and providing an "I go further" section for students wanting to explore more in depth. The words themselves are written in pro-student language, stating what students are able to do in "I" terms. The objectives are clear and engaging. And the cross curricular connections? Astounding in their simplicity.

The math book is full of problems requiring students to calculate taxes, equal distribution of agricultural plantations, and, my favorite, Nande who found some information about the state of children in the world. She and her friends set about calculating the number of reported births, child labor situations, and slavery (children captured as soldiers, sold into prostitution or other slavery situations.) Nande and her friends are shocked by what they discover and set about determining the number of exploited children, non exploited children and other percentages. Yeah. It's a fourth grade book.

Here some samples from the French text which end up doubling as citizenship education.

A little history and detail about the elections process

Essay about tribalism and traditional rites

The importance of peace after war

Solving problems through justice (and elder wisdom)

The rights of the child

How to make a happy child...more on basic rights and needs

Counsel about how to raise and protect a child

A bit about polygamy and the importance of education for girls

Importance of education for girls- because you can't stress that enough

   I'm a little wowed by depth of topics and the wealth of information presented in such a straight forward manner. I thought the curriculum I developed encompassing human rights and the plight of children worldwide was revolutionary.  Truthfully, I was a bit dumbfounded to find it all laid out so clearly, complete with colorful pictures, first and secondary sources and real world examples. What else can I say?