Art Education 7776 with Dr. Acuff transformed how I interpreted what a critical multicultural education meant, what it meant within the performing arts; more profoundly, how it could change my teaching practice by making it a much more equitable one. At the commencement of the semester, I was focally passionate about diversifying the reportorial selection I use as teaching material. Acknowledging the diverse demographic I teach, geared me away from the predominant Eurocentric way of presenting repertoire. To allow my dancers to visually relate with the artists creating an opportunity for them to form deeper connections to the art form. Diversifying repertorial selection challenges the status quo how commonly the Balletic Arts presents itself in curricula; something I acknowledge, making the appropriate changes to make the art form I teach more relevant to my student’s experience. Other structural changes within my practice, such as the inclusion and exposure to local dance companies/performers, have bridged the connection between our community; the professional paths students can attain. As Acuff (2015) points in Failure to Operationalize: Investing in Critical Multicultural Art Education, “the term multiculturalism has become an overused [term. That is] used so often, and in so many ways, art educators have become indifferent to its potential. It has become a word art educators use to be politically correct [and,] most teachers are n[o]t able to articulate its tenets, let alone figure out how to operationalize it. Multiculturalism is most ... associated with supporting diversity[;] teaching tolerance in the classroom [and within] educational reform, not necessarily critiquing the complex power structures that create oppressively systems of marginalization and educational disparity (p.32). The five authors I have chosen as the most influential readings from Fall 2020 challenged me to restructure a multicultural Ballet curriculum forcing me to critique not only the manner the art of Ballet is presented but how as an educator (part of the system itself) must critique and reform the lessons I engaged with dancers of diverse backgrounds. First, Acuff (2015) reveals how stifling visual material might be; Ackerman (2020) proposes equitably presented material, and Bonilla-Silva (2010) clarifies the disadvantages of colorblind practices. Katz-Buonincontro (2018) suggests how Creative Agency is a human right, enhancing my multicultural education interpretation to include socio-economic factors. Finally, Kohli, R. & Solórzano (2012) present micro-aggressions, evoking mindfulness of the language we use as educators. These vital factors the authors proposed have become a combination of how I can be much more critical of my art forms’ structure—allowing me more significantly to enhance my teaching practice. By evaluating all the types of tools, I present as teaching material physically and metaphysically as part of the environment I create for my dance students to equitably engage; practice to their fullest potential the art form they love.
Acuff, J. (2015). Failure to Operationalize: Investing in Critical Multicultural Art Education. Journal of Social Theory in Art Education, 30-43.
Paraphrasing Bonilla Silva (2010), this reading proposes how “whether implicitly or explicitly, racism exists in American life. [If one, looks at] the field of education [for instance, one can not deny how it] is directly or indirectly influenced by race and racism and educators are implicated in the struggle” (Acuff, 2015, p.31). Acuff supports this argument by stating how “educators must be [mindful] of the type of society in which they are educating students [because] this consciousness enables educators to visualize relevant pedagogical strategies that attend to society’s specific needs” (p.31). Broadly geared towards educators, I adapted this reading to my practice as a performing arts instructor by reflecting much more intensely on two very poignant questions. A) what is the mission of my workplace? And, B)what is my mission as a dance instructor?
Answering the two questions, I first thought about how my studio strives to provide professional-level dance instruction to all its emerging young dancers, maintaining a welcoming and safe environment for creativity to all who walk through our studio doors. Reflecting on past Ballet classes’ curriculum, how it has evolved over the few years, I am much more aware of how “teachers and administrators are not only ....influenced by race, but often [can] perpetuate...assumptions whether deliberate or not” (p.31). More disruptively, much of our past Ballet curricula had predominantly once focused on works of a series of particular eras. A standard most ballet studios have. Experiencing my encounters in the professional dance realm as a woman of color and fully acknowledging my art forms’ racial imbalances, I have chosen to use current companies in our studio’s vicinity. Which, coincidently parallel much of my class’ demographic. Concurrently with the repertoire that I must show in class. This reading has enhanced my perspective on how vital it is to make the material relevant to students. Illustrating the disservice, I would have done for my students to solely continue to use European classical dance works, teaching a multiracial group of students in the United States. Reflecting on dance studios, how the balletic arts are presented and taught has given me a heightened awareness of how children are extremely susceptive to the things they see. Administrations and teachers can unknowingly perpetuate a notion of white supremacy, for instance, if solely mentioning only European works. “For this reason, multicultural education pedagogy, curriculum, and practices are even more imperative...[to provide] equal opportunity to learn. [Dance teachers should] update, contemporary goals like critiquing power and address cultural subjugation” (p.32). The reading broadened my understanding of what critical multiculturalism means. Using the reading as a guide to identify my ideas and actions has allowed me to explore the significance of integrating a diverse repertoire. More than an act of inclusion, as “multiculturalism is most commonly and simply associated with supporting diversity and teaching tolerance in the classroom[,]” (p.32), I have always been passionate about using diverse repertoire to critique that works coined as the great masterpieces of ballet, are not any more important than how and what contemporary artists in the dance world are doing. In the context of a ballet class, the theme, for instance, should be the technicality of how to execute a movement. When dance teachers integrate, for instance, contemporary or restaged works alongside classical works, it becomes an observation of how the balletic arts training is the same. How, amongst generations, artists have attained the balletic technique to perfect a type of vocabulary to state messages and how as artists themselves, my dance students can convert movement to tell/share/educate their audience through choreography. The choice to showcase a diverse selection of the same repertoire alongside its original classical mastering is where I connect with dance students the most. When teachers acknowledge their class’s diversity, they can make the necessary changes to not just show the art form in one fashion. That can marginalize certain groups. The questions the author asks art educators made me reevaluate my practice forcing me to look at my lessons, the images I use, and the questions I ask to begin our choreographic lessons. Such as if “I am questioning cultural signs, signifiers, and visual imagery in my classroom [Or, ] building students critical consciousness around socially contracted media and its implications on individual lives” (p.39). How if I would have answered no and especially never taken a more critical stance to observe Ballets’ structure changing how I present course material, I would “be implicitly supporting the narratives that the images disseminate” (p.39).
Ackerman, S. (2020). The Time I Live In, and the Work of Shyama Golden. Art Education 73(4), pp. 49-54.
In this article, Sarah Ackerman brings forth the digital work and interview with contemporary artist Shyama Golden. Geared towards visual arts educators, Ms. Golden provides an extensive series of questions towards the end of her interview. That can aid art educators of different disciplines how to “engage students in conversations concerning equitable, diverse and inclusive curriculum... [that] foster [a students’] own opinions, arguments and actions in the [studio] and beyond” (Ackerman, 2020, p. 51). Paraphrasing Boucher (2019, para.27) as highlighted by Ackerman, I connected with the author specifically when pointing to how “there is a tremendous difference between fairness and equity. [I]f we [are] fair [yet] blind to the past, ... one would collect, based on merit, a roughly fifty-fifty split of men and women. But the fact ... is that we have been inequitable for a very long time” (p. 49). Though I am not a visual artist nor teach that art form, I connected with Ackerman in her pursuit of searching for “contemporary female artists making powerful ...statements in the field” (p.50). Her words triggered my fascination, for instance, this semester using Los Angeles based female choreographer and artistic director of Barak Ballet, Malissa Barak. Whom similar to visual artist Shyama Golden, “bring[s] portraits of everyday people of color into popular culture in meaningful ways” (Shyama, p.50). Melissa explores “complex themes and breathes new life into ... classical form [using dancers from our city, artists of color that, though movement] communicate and illustrate issues that our communities are going through” (Mission Statement, Barak Ballet). As a performing artist, I correlated the reading to how different art forms can touch on similar sentiments. How, why, and what makes our art meaningful. For instance, I identify how Shyama is “shaped by [her] experiences. [How she draws] in many ways ...putting forth interpretation of the time [she] lives in. [As a dance instructor, when I teach and navigate my students’ choreographies], I do not think it is a good [nor] bad thing [either] for kids to [mimic] popular figures [or storylines. But] if [students are heavily inspired] to [choreograph] popular storylines or mimic popular choreographers], they [should] bring something new to it. Rather than just copying a[nother artists’ work]” (p.50). More descriptively, in the realm of my art, dance students may use a particular style of dance, such as how the Romantic era or Balanchine style executes steps. I encourage them to use those movements in genuine ways to express their views on how movement may tell us through their bodies what is essential to them. In contrast to dancing, a storyline set in the 18th century because the choreographer they admire used that style to unfold their work—having no genuine connection to the period, what they are dancing or connecting with the emotions felt in the characters the Ballet created is showcasing. Adapting the reading to my experience as a ballet instructor, I took the interview portion with the artist “as an opportunity to look to holes in [material often used to showcase dance works;] the collection and exhibition history” (p.49). For instance, one can not stem away from the reality that within the Balletic arts, female artists have not had an equal amount of longevity within positions of power (like artistic directors of companies or choreographers) because historically, men have dominated those positions. Celebrating females within teaching material as well as demonstrating men en pointe; (a technique generationally reserved for female practice), are exemplary actions how dance educators “[can] observ[e the art forms’ structures. Most importantly,] ... question, mak[e] recommendations, and offer solutions that can work toward more equitable, diverse, and inclusive approaches in our [teaching practice] and home communities” (p.50).
Bonilla-Silva, E. (2010). Racism without Racists. Color-blind racism & racial inequality in contemporary America. 3rd Ed. Lanham, MD: Rowman and Littlefield. Chapters 1&2
In this reading, Bonilla-Silva (2010) delves deep into covert and overt behavior that has contributed to racial inequality in the United States—presenting the argument how, in the “Jim crow era, racism served as the glue for defending the overt system of racial oppression [within the] pre- Civil Rights era. [Whereas,] colorblindness serves today as the ideological armor for the covert and institutional system[s] in the post -Civil Rights era” (p.3). The author provides detailed behavior that our dominant society has developed to justify “responsibility for the status of color people” (p.2), but that is often intangibly proven. Though race is a social construct, I identify that the reality is that structures, as highlighted in Chapter Two, are the metaphysical institutions (thought systems themselves) that setback racial progress. I was most intrigued by the descriptions of “abstract liberalism” (p.26), “naturalization” (p.28), “cultural racism” (p.28), and how “minimization of racism [function]” (p.29). Integral key aspects that support the argument how they “form a wall because they provide [our dominant] white [society] a seemingly nonracial way of stating their racial views without appearing irrational or ... racist” (p.48). This reading pushed me to reevaluate my experience as a woman of color, encountering types of glances, blatant disregard, or backhanded comments, questioning their root of thought. Though geared to a broad audience, this greatly informative reading allows art educators to become better informed, questioning their art forms’ structures. Chapter One, for example, proposed ideas to examine human behavior. I reflected on specific actions that have covertly maintained an overdue change to the Balletic arts’ status quo. Such as underlying racial attitudes, praised as progress, that shine a light on the resistance at its core that positively creates change. When the author questioned, “how is it possible to have a tremendous degree of racial inequality in a country where most whites claim that race is no longer relevant? More importantly, how do whites explain the apparent contradiction between their professed color blindness and the US’s color-coded inequity? (p. 2). I could not help considering my experience teaching in a studio in an incredibly diverse city like Los Angeles. Where my classes’ demographic parallels the city’s diversity but our studio’s faculty does not. I am the only Hispanic woman amongst a wonderful and supportive group of European and Caucasian women. The author’s question made me delve deeper into my art forms educational structures, reviewing other institutions. For example, one of the most diverse American Ballet companies (with a correlating school), The New York City Ballet (who I often mention as teaching material), has never hired a permanent female ballet teacher of color since its establishment eighty-sixes years ago until Aesha Ash in 2020. What message does it send young girls of color who enter such a prestigious ballet school yet never see teachers like themselves in the realm they wish to enter and perform in. Or attain positions of power? As a student, I can attest to have felt a sense of comradeship and fire within as a young girl knowing if someone who looked liked me or came from a similar background reached the heights I was pursuing professionally.
Taking a more introspective look into my personal experiences reading Chapter Two than professional, the chapter illuminated my views on how colorblindness does not address the reality of the systemic racism people of color experience. The reading made me reexamine the dominant frames of thoughts themselves that serve as metaphysical institutions. For instance, though abstract liberalism “use[s] ideas associated with ... ‘equal opportunity’... the idea that force should not be used to achieve social policy[.By] framing ... race-related issue[s] in the language of liberalism, whites can [henceforth]appear ‘reasonable’...even ‘moral’ while opposing almost all practical approaches to deal with de facto racial inequality” (p.27). It is a beautiful idea that everyone has the right and ability to be free/go and do as one pleases. Yet, without governmental interference, the reality is to facilitate policies like affirmative action, many minorities go underrepresented in good jobs, schools, and universities. It is not preferential treatment because certain groups are at a disadvantage, to begin with, to be part of or compared to the dominant group. The sub-questions found within Chapter One challenged me to think about what I can do/what I have done to address this in the realm that I teach. I thought about my core passion combining different repertoires to the catalyst of traditional works I must show. It is vital for students to visually see the various perspectives artists of different races and backgrounds have done through restaged works. If, for instance, coworkers overlook its value. As a whole, this reading reconnected me to my goals as a dance educator, striving to create an atmosphere where my students feel wholly welcomed. For instance, I acknowledge that when works were created in the early years of Ballet, casts may not have resembled our current student demographic. Yet, ballet teachers should find repertoire selections with diverse casts to admire. Internalizing how “those belonging to subordinate race (like myself) or races struggle to change the status quo or become resigned to their position—Heroine lies the secret of racial structures and racial inequality the world over [I refuse not to use my power]” (p.9). As an educated woman of color with potential in my position as an instructor, I can use teaching material to address diversity disparity by acknowledging my art forms history; exposing my students to those contemporary artists/companies changing the structures. Colorblindness does not address the realities of racism that exist, especially systemically. Still, acknowledging those realities and differences than ignoring them as if they did not exist, I feel I can create changes if, at the very least, it begins within the realm of my classroom.
Katz-Buonincontro, J. (2018). Creativity for Whom? Art Education in the Age of Creative Agency, Decreased Resources, and Unequal Art Achievement Outcomes. Art Education, 71(6), 34-37.
This reading “focus on creative agency[;] questioning whether all art students are learning to realize their creative potential and if there is a difference between creativity as a human act and a human right” (p.35). The author underlyingly proposes that if educators never acknowledge or take the initiative to make their curriculum more relevant, inclusive, and cost-effective, one can never know what heights their students may attain. Geared towards educators, the author asks one to consider “fram[ing] creativity as a human right. [Forcing one to acknowledge ] impli[cations such as] withholding art from groups of students related to their positions economic or social status in society [that] may [ultimately] impact a student’s ability to realize their creative agency” (p.35). This view forced me to reevaluate the tools to create/practice dance-works. Providing me with a much more profound understanding of how instrumental dance teachers are in giving their students the opportunities to ultimately reach their full potential for self-expression in the most straightforward and most meaningful ways. Considering more descriptively, Choreography as a human right for students to voice themselves, my lessons, for instance, become a vehicle to be heard through movement—not just an activity. Thinking about my practice in this fashion pushed me to reevaluate my teaching material specifically. For when “thinking of creativity as a human right for all students then it raises the questions[s] how edcuation[al] opportunities in the arts have been drifted over the years [and the changes I need to take in my classes that will benefit all my dance students]” (p.35). Adapting this reading to my practice, I am aware that “spending decreases in art education are relatively common” in traditional academic settings. [Furthermore, how] less[er] known [or] discussed is the widening gap in access to arts education between the various demographic group of students” (p.35). When I reexamined the vicinities to view performance, for instance (teaching material vital to me), I see the reality of how affluent demographics have a plethora of theaters. Besides museums, cultural facilities are readily available and are more remote within working-class neighborhoods, where some of my students live. I could not agree more with the author’s statements on how “demographic differences in arts performance scores can be found .... [regarding correlation to] out of school trips to museums and making art at home.” (p.35). In my experience, the affluent neighborhoods have various amounts of public sculptures and services that can inspire my dancers right from their homes’ walking comfort. A walking trip for a family may increase the probability to see, for instance, a free weekend performance in contrast to a family who lives further away (not omitting congested city traffic as a factor/ price of gas) to engage in the same activity. This “creative inequity” the author raises broadened my thoughts on how “art and design [as well as studio instructors] might approach these issues more deeply when aspiring to teach in an age of creative agency. [Furthermore,] how we as educators promote creative agency in a strained arts-learning environment where there are ... reduced resources” (p.35). This reading challenged me to look at the current changes I am making to continue to inspire, providing my students with the tools to continue their passions to practice at home and express themselves in cost-effective ways. That, most importantly, does not diminish my instruction quality. I was most challenged to reexamined what “creativity as a human right in [dance] education means. [By evaluating if my lessons (especially in regards to choreography class where students create their original works), provide them all equally an environment] to question their identity as well as their role in [our studio], community and society” (p.36). Taking particular note in the manner, I have incorporated a much more diverse representation amongst repertoire than Ballet’s typical Eurocentric curricula. Or the steps I have taken outside my norm of teaching to fuse technology at no monetary means for students to continually engage in the dance arts. Besides, reimagine the tools /take-home activities we use to practice, facilitating learning from home, and use local companies in our vicinity to showcase the representation of different artists that make up various sections of the greater Los Angeles area where my students come from. These particular changes have been meaningful in my teaching practice and can be useful for all studio dance instructors to consider. For “when art educators open up the curriculum to allow students to make a socially relevant and personally meaningful connection, then it is possible for students who may feel disenfranchised to excel at learning the arts” (p.37).
Kohli, R. & Solórzano, D. (2012). Teachers please learn our names! Racial microaggressions and the K-12 classroom. Race, Ethnicity and Education, 441-462.
Through a qualitative inventory of student/teacher relationships and experience detailing the mispronunciation of names authors, Kohli and Solorzano (2010) highlight how “subtle comments [should be acknowledged as] racial slights. Often unconscious and unintentionally hurtful ... layered insults[,] intersect with an ‘other’ of race language and culture” (p.448). I connected with this reading and understood fully the arguments the author states, bringing to light how “enduring these subtle experiences with racism can have a lasting impact on the self-perception and worldview of a child” (p.443). For instance, when one continually does not acknowledge or take the effort to understand something as simple as a name that does not have a Western pronunciation, those acts though seemingly benign, “support a racial and cultural hierarchy of minority inferiority” (p.443). Placing this reading into context from an adult woman’s perspective, I remember instances when meeting new coworkers; automatically, I am referred to as “Taty” than my name, Tatiana, for easier pronunciation. I have never had any personal qualms for the nickname amongst friends and family, but in a professional setting like a job, I would have preferred to have been called by my birth-name than a nickname my mother, aunts friends call me. Knowing this, I understand how important it is to take the effort and acknowledge a child’s name in my classes because it provides and sets an atmosphere they are included and accepted in the group for the session. Geared towards educators, the author provides a poignant argument about how “names carry cultural and family significance[.They] can connect children to their ancestors, country of origin, or ethnic groups[and] when a child goes to school, and their name is mispronounced or changed [,] it can negate the thought, care or significance of the name and thus the identity of the child” (p.444). The covert racism that the author brings to light through this reading challenged me to reconsider how I learn my own students’ names during the first day of each session and if I am doing an adequate job providing and setting the tone classes that everyone is acknowledged and welcomed. For instance, I teach in an extremely diverse city. Many of my students are first-generation Americans and, like myself, have names that do not use Western pronunciations. “When students are taught to tease the unfamiliar, rather than embrace or celebrate an exposure to something new, it can create a climate or racial hostility for those who are not part of the majority” (p.453). Thus, because I teach a physical art form and presentation is part of our curriculum, I like to have the students introduce one another. At the beginning of my sessions, I introduce myself and ask the students to break off into partners to present their dance partners to the class, providing everyone with one thing their partner would like to share about themselves. Students take the time to know one another, become familiarized with new students or returning students, and take pride in their oral presentations. During those few minutes of conversation, children who may not assume have things in common often share in their mini-presentations how much they do apart from their passion for dancing.