Rise UP!

It’s always great to observe fellow Arts Corps colleagues. There’s so much to learn about their artistry, pedagogical practices, and personal relationship with their students. Just a few weeks ago, I had the wonderful opportunity to do just that–observe fellow teaching artist, Stephany Hazelrigg at Aki Kurose.

What an awesome experience for me!

Besides the usual teaching of concepts, in this case, hip-hop vocabulary and dance moves, I found that Stephany was teaching an old and familiar concept in a whole new way.

Community.

I know I’ve written on this subject before and while I thought I had “community” well defined in my head, I now enjoy a much deeper understanding of this word than ever before.

You see, what caught my attention was her use of words and phrases that nurtured the idea of community and therefore were reflected in her actions.

For example, when two younger students began arguing, an older student jumped in and defended her friend. Instead of allowing the older student to take control of the situation, Stephany said- “will you be the older sister and mentor and step back?” This provided an opportunity for the two younger students to problem solve on their own and learn to communicate. As for the older girl, it allowed her to reflect and respond appropriately and maturely rather than to react defensively.

In another instance, as a young boy struggled teaching several dance moves to the class, Stephany reminded him, “remember, the goal as a leader is to not trick your community. Show them moves they can all follow.” As a result, the young boy chose simpler steps and taught them slowly so that all the students felt successful.

“Reset, Rewind, Recommit!”

“Rise up!”

“Celebrate and Elevate!”

Words and actions embracing and nurturing the true meaning of community.

It may seem basic and remedial, but in today’s world and with today’s generation, community is a hard concept to grasp. It’s not just about neighbors and neighborhoods. It’s about interacting with the people around us each and every day. Much of our youth today doesn’t know how to get along and communicate positively and effectively. We as teachers  have to tackle this problem and so much more in our classes. We’re not just teaching our artistry anymore, we’re teaching life long skills necessary to co-exist in our world. The fact is that we can’t really make an impact in our work until we’ve built a safe environment around us. We must all feel loved, accepted, and a significant part of a functioning community.

I left the class renewed, reinvigorated and eager to apply these ideas to my own students. I’ve always felt that even as a seasoned educator there is always room to learn new and old things.

After all, the key to perfecting our craft is to always remain life long students!

Thanks Stephany!

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Practicing What I Teach

Practice is the act of rehearsing a behavior over and over, or engaging in an activity again and again, for the purpose of improving or mastering it, as in the phrase “practice makes perfect”. Sports teams practice to prepare for actual games. Playing a musical instrument well takes a lot of practice. It is a method of learning and of acquiring experience.

I’m gearing up to teach a residency for middle school girls about writing and performing your own work and it’s making me nauseous.   Truth is, every time I plan for a new class I get waves of queasy anxiety.  Teaching kids is hard work, and I know what’s coming…weeks of sizing up, boundary testing and trust building.  Being a Teaching Artist requires a serious level of truth, vulnerability and fearlessness, and I’m feeling woefully out of practice.

I’ve been a Teaching Artist since 1990, (but back then I didn’t know it because that was before we settled on the term).  I moved from the east coast to Seattle and was piecing together theatre teaching gigs and feeling professionally alone.  Over time I found like-minded peers, and many from that talented crew became the founding faculty of Arts Corps.

Artists and musicians have been sharing what they know with their communities since the beginning of time, but it’s only been in the last decade that we’ve set apart what we do and delineated the field of Teaching Artistry.  Arts Corps and the Teaching Artist profession have grown in tandem.  In 2000 we hatched our fledgling organization and in 2003 Eric Booth asked me to define a Teaching Artist for the first issue of the Teaching Artist Journal.  I said something about how we are practicing artists whose teaching is part of that practice… that we are role models for lifestyle, discipline and skill …passing on ways of thinking, seeing and being…that we are facilitators for creativity which makes us social activists.  I still believe all of this to be true, and it’s the “practicing artists whose teaching is part of that practice” part that I’m hung up on right now as I plan my upcoming quarter.

My time at Arts Corps has always been split between teaching and administrating, but last year the only teaching I did was with adults, which, for me, is never as daunting as teaching kids (especially middle school girls).  The only theatre work I did last year was performing in one weekend of short new plays, unless “acting” like an Education Director counts. And about my writing…I haven’t written anything I’ve really liked since the last time I was teaching youth.  I find that interesting, and I don’t think it’s a coincidence.

Upon serious reflection, if I’m going be a credible creative role model for a bunch of dramatic tweens, I’ve got to get back in training physically and mentally.  I’m committed to prepping for my teaching marathon that starts at the end of January. I’m not ashamed to tell ya, I bought a gym membership a few days ago. My resolution to myself is to get back to practicing what I teach.  Just to get my feet wet, I wrote this haiku.

Sore from Zumba class
Teen girls are counting on you.
Be brave. Write daily.

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Philanthropy is not a 4-letter word

It’s part horror, part bewilderment – the look I usually get when I tell people I am a development director (a.k.a. “a fundraiser”). This sour lemon face is usually followed by some variation of, “Wow, I would never want your job.”

I get it. Mainly because I know for many, “fundraising” brings up images and bad memories of solicitors calling at dinnertime and aggressive door-knockers guilting you into writing a check. True, this is fundraising (although not the kind I believe in). But it’s not philanthropy.

Merriam-Webster’s definition of philanthropy is “goodwill to fellow members of the human race.” Making a gift to an organization you believe in is simply that – goodwill to others. And best of all, it should feel good.

Fundraising guru Susan Howlett eloquently described what (not how much) a meaningful gift should be – large enough that you feel like it represents your deep belief in the work, that it signals to your children or your close friends that this is a priority in your life, and that it manifests to others that you’re proud to be part of this organization.

For some, a meaningful gift may be $10,000. For others of us, it may be $25. But the intention and the meaning are indistinguishable. And as one of Arts Corps’ board members once said – we all bring what we can and together we make a feast.

My basic philosophy of philanthropy is this: when done right, with authenticity, listening and respect, everyone feels good – the donor, the organization, the clients, the community. It’s not about charity, it’s about being part of work that you believe in.

It’s the season of giving and most likely you are finding an onslaught of requests for donations in your mailbox. But before you toss them in the recycling, take a look. Find the one or ones that move you, that make you feel hopeful. And then join the feast.

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