The Role of Art in Fostering Social Change

The Rural Haiti Gallery & Panel Discussion

Host:	The Rural Haiti Project
Type:	Music/Arts - Exhibit
Network:	Global

Date:	Tuesday, October 6, 2009
Time:	6:30pm - 8:30pm
Location:	DickBlick
Street:	1-5 Bond Street
City/Town:	New York, NY
	View Google Map

Email:

info@ruralhaitiproject.com

Come view artwork from the children of The Rural Haiti Project, and participate in a panel discussion with our guest panelists!

The guest panelists include:

• Jacqueline Malanga//Art Educator

Jacqueline Malanga is an art educator, who believes the purpose of art education is to empower students to learn and develop through the communicative and expressive practice of art making.

• David Belle //Founder of Cine Institute of Jacmel Co-Founder BRANDAID Project

David Belle is an award winning film Producer and Director who uses the power of cinema, integrated educational programming, technical training, and media production support, to educate and empower Haitian youth.

• Lichiban//Visual Artist, Illustrator, and Curator Lichiban draws inspiration from her childhood memories of Eastern-European folktales and animations, studies in Sufism, travels to war-torn countries (Bosnia, Kashmir, Eastern Turkey), volunteer work with refugees and trauma victims. She remains a humanitarian with a commitment to further the evolution of the heart.

• Rasu Jilani//Brand Owner & Project Strategist

Rasu Jilani dedicates himself to a number of socially conscious initiatives, including significant work with Brooklyn's emerging artists and a dedicated role in reversing the plight of today's underserved youth.

• Moderated by: Sandra Amarie

Learning to Laugh

My dear friend and roommate Simone has a gig tonight.  She's playing at Pete's Candy Store in Williamsburg, Brooklyn, and has been practicing all week for her set.  It's a delight to have live music in the house.  She has the most beautiful voice and had been rehearsing one particular song that I now have stuck in my head on a daily, if not hourly, basis.  

The first line is "Learning to laugh, as if I don't care, who overhears my curses or my prayers?" I'm glad this first line is on loop in my brain going into my first full week of school, as it is going to be used as a learning tool, or perhaps even a sanity managing tool.

A few years ago, I was told by my professor in school to learn to laugh a little bit more, not to take myself so seriously and to keep my "curses" to myself while in my first few years of teaching.  I realize that after dealing with the first three very confusing, stressful and chaotic days of trying to put together an arts department for the upper grades, learning to laugh is vital.  There have already been overheated debates, fightin' words and those who choose to walk down the path of latent unprofessionalism.   The new principal won't budge on a few issues and is holding on to her inflexibility like a child clutching the last remaining treat from her Halloween booty bag. 

I've always naturally taken the role of mediator in the lives of others and have often found myself looking to my left and right at the opposing forces that have not a clue how to work things out for themselves.   I found myself in this situation already this week and indeed had iron out some ruffled feathers.  I was able to walk away virtually unscathed, however, I made sure to share my situation with another of the arts teachers in order to completely get it off my chest. She made me laugh and we continued to laugh together at the absurdity of what was happening and what we know will continue to occur throughout the rest of the year at PS 298.  

So, thank you Simone for the loop of "Learning to Laugh".  I vow to play this song over and over in my head before every class or meeting, to take it's advice and let the ridiculousness of disorganization, unprofessionalism, and chaos morph into laughter, allowing my curses to go unheard. 

Getting what I need to get what I want

I'm not one to back down from an issue if I feel it is unjust.  My Italian friend's parents told me this summer that as a person of Calabrese ancestry, I'm hard headed.  This is true. They knocked the table with their knuckles and nodded their heads in agreement.   As a matter of fact, I get even more diligent when I can't get what I need in order to do the job I want to do.  

A professor of mine once said that art students have to get what they need in order to get the results they want in the art classroom.  I think the same phrase applies to an art teacher in a school that has virtually no money to support their art programs.  I need supplies to get what I want.  What I want is to have my students excel in the art classroom.  What I want is to be able to do my job.  What I want is a copier that works.  What I want is to not have to pay for copier paper out of my own pocket.  

What's a carpenter without a hammer?  

What's a mechanic without a wrench?  

What's an art teacher with out paper? 

Drawing paper is the one thing I need the most.  I've already doled out the cash for lots of other supplies.    My principal, after my diligent and yet gentle approach to asking over and over again for paper, finally responded with a "it should be doable".   

I'm grateful for my paper.  It will get me through.  It will get my students through. They're grateful for what I give them and what I share with them and that's all that matters.  

Letting the Unconscious Make Decisions

There are times when I have a gut reaction and completely ignore it. This "gut" knowledge that comes from the unconscious mind is meant to be a telling sign that there is something one should pay attention to.  I vow to pay more attention to this concept over the next ten months-inside the classroom and out-as I delve back into the world of art education. 

Malcolm Gladwell states that there are moments when too much investigation into something yields misconceptions and false outcomes.  Going with your gut is essential to survival in and out of the classroom.  So, it's imparative that I state here my very first gut reaction upon walking back into PS 298 this past Monday to set up my  art classroom: this is only a job and not a career. There I said it. Am I invested? Sure.  Everything I do, I do with aplomb. Where does this leave the idea of job versus career?  Once again I must bring up the unconscious mind. Do I trust it?  It's so fickle when exposed to different environments and subjects like summer vs. school year.  In the summer, yeah, I don't want to go back, what am I doing? I should be focused on my art and launching my art career. Right. Right.  

(I actually vow to do that this year, that is certain.  It's been a long time coming.  Once I get over the first day, it'll fly and be even be fun at moments, a lot easier than last year, easier enough to get a little more accomplished in the realm of my desirous career-art making.)

Today, on my third day of cleaning and organizing,  I saw the gleaming face of a student visiting with her mother, taking care of business before the REAL business starts next week.  When she saw me she started smiling, pulling on their mother's sleeve, saying with excitement, "Mom, that's my art teacher!" When this kind of stuff happens I have this overwhelming feeling that I'm doing the right thing by walking into one of the most dangerous neighborhoods in NYC just to expose students to the glory of art making, to show them what is possible and to uncover talents and ideas that lay dormant until drawn out.  

I realize that there's a dichotomy going here.  There is the life of the teacher, the one's that hooked on serving others; something my friend Anthony calls being a civilian.  Then there's the other life, the one that exists after 3pm, the one that exists on the weekends and during the long glorious days of the summer. So when I walked into school this week, I realize that this job is the one I should be doing right now, despite all of my complaining.  I spend a lot  of time fighting against the idea of being a teacher. Yet, when I'm have moments like the one I did today, I'm contented.  

Going into my second year of teaching in Brownsville, I realize there are somethings that are going to be a lot easier are there are somethings that are going to remain the same.  I know what they are.  It's my turn to take a step back, become less involved, to allow myself the freedom to approach what the rest of my life is about-those times after 3pm, the art work that I do, the friends, family, and intimates that I have in my life that are just as important.  There will always be a Brownsville, there will always be violence, there will always be a need for a sucker like me to launch head long into teaching art to the beautiful little faces that actually really appreciate it.  

I told a friend recently that I think I actually enjoy telling others that I work in Brownsville.  I makes me feel like a badass.  Perhaps I am.  Who knows?  What I do know is that when my feet hit the newly polished floors of PS 298 today, my gut said "This is good".  It took three days to get me there.  I've been going on all week to set up my room, meet with my Principal, and setting my mind to school mode.  Now that I'm over the hump, I know that this year will be riddled with new adventures, inside the classroom and out. 

Stay tuned for what those adventures are.