cultural engagement

Three Easy Ways to Energize Your Global Inner Child

bo.white — Mon, 22 Mar 2010 15:54:30 -0700

Living in an interconnected world is here to stay. One cannot claim ignorance any longer on some parts of the world with 24/7 cable networks visually reporting the recent news and images from around the globe. Couple this with Twitter updates, texts messages, and online updates: information is not our problem. Engagement with that information is another story. How does something like news impact us emotionally? Part of our emotional engagement comes when we actually allow ourselves to be immersed or exposed in a fresh way to people and their stories.

So, to become more emotionally connected rather than mere information collection, here are a few suggestions....

1) Read books written by foreign authors.....don't simply read a book by a Western author about a different part of the world, but truly read a book by someone who does not live here and who has written a book for people who don't live here. Spending hours and days, not sound bytes and minutes, will help with emotional engagement.

2) watch good foreign films....the Academy Awards have now come and gone, but immerse yourself in a story that is compelling and well done and doesn't rely on special effects and slick American marketing. The film from Argentina that just won the Oscar for best foreign language film is a good start. A story well told visually will engage you emotionally.

3) Start jotting down an emotional news list....what do I mean? I mean take note of the news stories that make you angry or sad or laugh or cry. Pay attention to what actually elicits in you a reaction. And then write down what your reaction was and over time reflect on that....your reaction may lead to some intentional action that may change something in your own life.

The writer and pastor Frederick Buechner ends one of his messages, entitled "What It Means to Grow Up" (full text here), with the following words--may they guide us as we seek to be engaged in an interconnected world at a deeper level:

"We are strangers to each other, you and I. Who knows how many miles apart as I stand at the lectern and you sit there watching your screens, but the sense we have of each other’s humanity even so, the feeling that one way or another we are all of us here — you in your living rooms and me at this lectern to give each other our love and God our love. This kind of moment itself is a door that holiness enters the world through. May it enter you! May it enter me! — to the world’s saving. Amen."

-bo

Revisiting the One Size Fits All Education System

Christy Tennant — Thu, 14 Jan 2010 00:00:00 -0800

I bought a sweater once that was "one-size-fits-all," but I quickly discovered that "one-size-fits-all" is a bold-faced lie. When it comes to clothing, one size most definitely does not fit all. I am a size four, and the sweater practically swallowed me whole. It was supposed to be one of those items that stretched and retracted to accommodate its wearer, but instead it was bunchy and bulky and unflattering. It quickly moved to the back of my closet, only to be donated to Goodwill for some other gullible shopper to get suckered into buying.

One-size-fits-all is a lie when it comes to clothing. And, I am coming to learn, it is a lie in pretty much everything else. When the IAM staff first got our iPhones, mine felt clunky and large in my smallish hands, while my coworkers who are men with much larger hands did not find it awkward at all. When I go somewhere, I slide easily into my Nissan Sentra, but when I recently gave my friend Allen a ride, his height and girth made my small car a bit of a challenge. For him, a truck or larger sedan would fit much better. The more I think about it, one size does not really "fit" all. Rather, "all" adjust or accommodate or simply get used to using something that doesn't fit all that well. The more I think about it, life depends on "all" adjusting to the "one-size." I suppose, in some backward way, that is how manufacturers can get away with saying that "one size fits all."

I subscribe to Books and Culture, the bi-monthly book review publication, but because of the profusion of reading material that fills my days (not to mention my desk, bedside table, coffee table, and dining table), each issue usually gets shuffled around from living room to bathroom to briefcase to Staten Island Ferry, and back again before I finally get to read it. That's why it took me until January 13 to read Rebecca Ward Lindsay's very helpful review in the November/December issue.

In "School Daze," Lindsay touches on three books that address the broken educational system in America. She rightly points out that, "No country can boast as many spectacular universities as the United States. And yet, our primary and secondary schools lag behind dozens of other nations." The three authors mentioned in this piece have differing opinions on the cause of our educational woes, and they each offer contrasting solutions to the troubles facing children in the public school systems as they are presently operating. Yet all seem to be unified on one thing: the system is in need of repair.

At International Arts Movement, we are not only interested in addressing issues facing artists and creative catalysts. Our interest as a movement is in the broken systems in all spheres of culture. And one system that is undeniably broken is our education system, from the current proliferation of standardized testing that has alienated and marginalized not only many students, but also teachers, to an imbalanced emphasis on critical thinking and problem-solving divorced from the creative arts. As the daughter of a retired public school music teacher, I witnessed the evolution that seemed to begin in the late '90's and early '00's, when Standards of Learning (SOL's) became the obsession of the public school system. Teachers, who had cultivated their programs through spending years in the classroom, had to suddenly become like drill sergeants, hammering information potentially covered by SOL test questions into their students so that they could keep their jobs and their students could be promoted to the next level.

As I was reflecting on this today, I called my mom, who is now retired from teaching but serves as a substitute teacher in the system in which she taught for years. In fact, she happened to be subbing today, and she called me back during her short lunch break. After we discussed her experiences as a public school teacher, she said, "There are cycles in education," she said. "What they're doing now is not what they will be doing later. We (teachers) just have to wait and adapt to those changes."

I remembered hearing about changes that my mom's programs experienced as the pressure mounted to pass SOL tests each spring. Mom used to produce school musicals that gave all of the children in a given grade level a chance to learn about performing, stage craft, dance, story-telling and other cultures. Occasionally, during the weeks of rehearsal, she would pull soloists or groups of dancers out of class for additional rehearsals. The teachers were very supportive and accommodating of this. However, as SOL pressure grew, the teachers no longer allowed students out of class for those short rehearsals. Instead, Mom was expected to mount school musicals with only two 30-minute rehearsals during her classes each week.

As a result, Mom had to "dumb down" her programs. Whereas in the past, she would invite a professional Spanish dancer to come in and teach one group of gifted movers some more challenging choreography, she could no longer do that with the limited time she had. She had to use simpler music, simpler movement and simplified dialogue. However, Mom pointed out optimistically that "a creative person can find ways to both accommodate the SOL requirements and keep it engaging for the kids." In fact, she adapted a musical for her school that incorporated lessons in Virginia history, which were part of the SOL prep, and the musical was so popular with the kids and effective as a teaching tool that other schools in her system requested the materials for their schools too, proving that, once again, necessity is a wonderful creative catalyst. She also used "Schoolhouse Rock" material liberally throughout the year, which "the kids loved."

In his excellent TED lecture, delivered in February 2006, creativity expert Sir Ken Robinson bluntly proposes that education, as we currently approach it, kills creativity. Challenging the way we're educating our children, Sir Ken champions "a radical rethink of our school systems, to cultivate creativity and acknowledge multiple types of intelligence."

The "one-size-fits-all" educational system that presently marks our nation simply doesn't work for everyone. But, as with every other broken system, most people adjust. (I almost said "simply adjust," but the adjustment is far from simple. Rather, the adjustment often requires a team of paraprofessionals, administrators, counselors, advocates and teachers working together to help certain students fit in to the one-size-fits-all system in whose margins they spend a third of their days.)

One of the questions that will be addressed at IAM's upcoming Encounter 10 will deal with this issue of how the one-size-fits-all education system is broken. We want to push people to wrestle deeply with the questions surrounding this issue and to cultivate creative, alternative approaches to a system that leaves so many floundering on the sidelines. While the actual question is still evolving a bit, we plan to ask something to the effect of, "Are we teaching art - and everything else - all wrong?"

Meanwhile, we would love to hear your thoughts. Do you agree with Sir Ken Robinson's assessment:

What these things have in common is that kids will take a chance. If they don't know, they'll have a go. Am I right? They're not frightened of being wrong. Now, I don't mean to say that being wrong is the same thing as being creative. What we do know is, if you're not prepared to be wrong, you'll never come up with anything original. If you're not prepared to be wrong. And by the time they get to be adults, most kids have lost that capacity. They have become frightened of being wrong. And we run our companies like this, by the way. We stigmatize mistakes. And we're now running national education systems where mistakes are the worst thing you can make. And the result is that we are educating people out of their creative capacities. Picasso once said this. He said that all children are born artists. The problem is to remain an artist as we grow up. I believe this passionately, that we don't grow into creativity, we grow out of it. Or rather, we get educated out if it. So why is this?

Are you an educator or parent who would like to connect with others who are displeased with the one-size-fits-all system currently being proliferated by our schools? Do you want to participate in this discussion?

Please send me your thoughts at christy (at) internationalartsmovement.org, and please consider joining us for Encounter 10, March 4-6 in lower Manhattan. Details can be found at www.IAMencounter.com.

“Christians” in “Babylon?”

MarkM — Mon, 09 Mar 2009 06:48:25 -0700

Has anyone else noted that Christian’s seem to be getting a little . . . touchy? I don’t know, maybe some are still simmering over the election (though most of the Christians I know voted for Obama). Maybe because of the economy? Maybe Darwin’s recent birthday. Somehow Christians seem to feel a little defensive. A little “us against them,” like during the “culture wars” of the past.

The headline jumped out at me as I looked up to the Conversant Life site on my screen: “Can Christians be Darwinists?” I was surprised. Do people somewhere in America still actually use the term “Darwinists?” What would happen if I casually walked up to a group of my friends and asked “hey, any of you guys Darwinists!?!” With all due respect and honor, I just honestly don’t get it. I noticed that the “Darwinist” blog stayed in the “most discussed” list for weeks, so it must be important to people. But I wonder, who do we think we are?

I was in a meeting a few weeks ago when people were talking about “engaging culture.” They were evangelical Christians, with beautiful hearts and a very sincere hope. One person declared “we are aliens in Babylon and we must engage these people and their culture.” Someone else agreed, noting they were “in this world, but not of it.” I found myself with tears in my eyes. Some like to use Babylon as a metaphor for American culture. Christians are supposed to invade and change it. Frankly, I find this demeaning.

I have to confess something to the readers of this blog: I’m a native Babylonian. I was born of Babylonians, raised in Babylonian schools, nurtured by Babylonian media. I went to Babylonian Colleges and live next to Babylonian neighbors. My heart language is Babylonian, and when pressed, I will swear colorfully in fluent Babylonian. I love Babylonian food. I listen to Babylonian music every day and watch Babylonian film whenever I get the chance.

I’m grateful that God has touched my heart, that I know I’m loved in Him and that at some point, I’ll be face to face with Him. I know that He has given me a clean heart and is in the process of renewing my mind. Wonderful! True! How cool! And yet. I don’t deny my culture or my people. I can’t! I’m not able to invade this land because it’s already mine. God has changed my heart, to be sure. But that means I’m a Babylonian with love in my heart, newly equipped to walk with my people in my land.

I wrote this poem on the train home, thinking carefully about who I am.

Babylonian

I’m a native Babylonian

Born with blood from others like me

A strong Babylonian mother who clothed and fed

Cultured by my media, a shaved disciple before a glowing screen

I breathed in unison, initiated into the cult of this land

My heart dreams in Babylonian.

Not sure what to think when others

Further along than I

Declare their proud independence

“I am in this world, but not of it, a stranger in a strange land!”

Sipping a no-foam Starbucks and glancing at their Seiko.

I still unbuckle my discolored jeans

They quietly pile on the cold tile floor around my ankles

I sit on a white Babylonian throne

Relieving myself from the burdens of waste

Thin paper wipes the excess, fragrant soap and warm water combine to clean

A daily reminder of where I’m from.

I can’t invade this land

A missionary zealot with appropriate passion

I’m one of them and this land is already mine

I’m changed, yes, I am newly alive

A clean heart fixed to a renewing mind.

But I know my stripes

I know my noise and my quietness

I have hope for where I go

I walk newly now

But as a Babylonian with love

Among my people.