As Teaching Artists, our primary desire should be to see our students develop, grow and change as artists. On the surface, that seems such a basic premise that it should not need to be stated. We want our students to learn, don't we? Why else are we here?
Most Teaching Artists need never give this a second thought. The great majority of us live for the "aha!" moment when a student makes the leap of understanding, or displays a new level of expertise after working hard to master a skill. We love to be amazed at how far a student has come, how much she has learned, how quickly he advances to another level.
Sadly, however, there are a few exceptions. Some teachers are quick to slot students, to think--wrongly-- that they already know what this student can do, where that one fits. Such teachers have stopped listening. They have stopped seeing. Why does this happen? Often it is the result of familiarity. A teacher who has worked with a student over a period of time may believe there are no surprises left. Familiarity can lead to pre-judgement, which will be positive toward some students, less so toward the rest. Some students may never be allowed to break out of the role that a certain teacher cast them in long ago. Ironically, the only student that such a teacher sees with true clarity is the stranger, who has not yet been labeled.
What contributes to this artistic myopia toward certain students? One major factor is a controlling personality. Teachers with unresolved control issues must always have the last word, must be the final arbiter. Such teachers have shut off the possibility that students can, and indeed should, always be shaking things up, challenging our beliefs about them and the art form. These teachers are only comfortable being the "smartest one in the room."
Another possibility is the teacher's inability to separate liking from judging. Are you more drawn toward students whose artistic tastes echo (and perhaps even flatter) your own? Are you put off by students who produce socially or politically charged work that offends your personal sensibilities? Are you kinder to students who somehow remind you of your own youthful struggles?
Another contributing factor is immaturity and jealousy in the teacher. As Leonardo da Vinci said "Poor is the pupil who does not surpass his master." Although those who work with very young students may not face this issue, certainly those who work in the post-secondary (and even secondary) world may very well come face-to-face with emerging artists whose passion and vision, if not yet skill, equals and may eventually surpass their own. If you envy your students their moments in the spotlight, it is time for you to consider a new career.
In her book Mindset, Stanford University psychologist Carol Dweck discusses the difference between a fixed mindset and a growth mindset. Persons with a fixed mindset believe that intelligence and talents are simply fixed traits. Persons with a growth mindset believe most basic abilities can be developed through dedication and hard work. As Teaching Artists, we owe it to our students to maintain a growth mindset toward them. Teaching Artists must not let familiarity and favoritism blind us to the students' ongoing development. Teaching Artists must give up the need for control, and actively fight the need to always be right. Teaching Artists must actively make the distinction between liking and judging. Teaching Artists must reject jealousy.
Ultimately, Teaching Artists must regard our students as ever-evolving works in progress. And if we are really wise, we will remember to think of ourselves in the same way as well.
Showing posts with label ego. Show all posts
Showing posts with label ego. Show all posts
Tuesday, January 18, 2011
Sunday, January 2, 2011
Resolutions for the Teaching Artist
The holidays are about wrapped up. A new year is upon us. Have you made your New Year's resolutions yet? Not the usual ones, the ones everybody makes to decrease their vices and increase their virtues. I'm talking about the resolutions that will directly affect your life as a Teaching Artist in 2011. Here are a few of mine. Feel free to adopt any that work for you, and I welcome your own resolutions as a Teaching Artist as well. Please share yours in the comments section and we will all learn something. Oh, and I hope you lose weight this year as well.
1) I resolve to continue my own work as an artist this year. I won't promise to finish my epic trilogy this year, but I am going to keep plugging away at my writing. Whatever your art form, your students will benefit from you engaging in your ongoing work.
2) I resolve to be an advocate for arts education whereever and whenever the opportunity presents itself. I will strive to view these conversations both private and public as divine appointments for the benefit of my students. I will strive to be patient with those who don't yet understand why arts education matters for every person.
3) I resolve to meet difficulty with grace and good humor. I will strive to see the good, to be thankful for progress and to reject cynicism. I will maintain my belief that my work is important even when it seems invisible to the world.
4) I resolve to be grateful. I will strive for good will toward every student and colleague, recognizing that often the most apparently indifferent person turns out to be the one who will most benefit from what I have to offer.
5) I resolve to encourage other Teaching Artists. I will strive to remember how others have helped me in difficult times, and I will welcome the opportunity to pass that on to others.
Happy New Year!
1) I resolve to continue my own work as an artist this year. I won't promise to finish my epic trilogy this year, but I am going to keep plugging away at my writing. Whatever your art form, your students will benefit from you engaging in your ongoing work.
2) I resolve to be an advocate for arts education whereever and whenever the opportunity presents itself. I will strive to view these conversations both private and public as divine appointments for the benefit of my students. I will strive to be patient with those who don't yet understand why arts education matters for every person.
3) I resolve to meet difficulty with grace and good humor. I will strive to see the good, to be thankful for progress and to reject cynicism. I will maintain my belief that my work is important even when it seems invisible to the world.
4) I resolve to be grateful. I will strive for good will toward every student and colleague, recognizing that often the most apparently indifferent person turns out to be the one who will most benefit from what I have to offer.
5) I resolve to encourage other Teaching Artists. I will strive to remember how others have helped me in difficult times, and I will welcome the opportunity to pass that on to others.
Happy New Year!
Wednesday, November 17, 2010
The Blessings of a Missed Entrance
“Isn’t wonderful how the show just comes together at the end!” The curtain has fallen, and someone’s mom, or grandma, or doting auntie is all smiles. Congratulations are certainly due to the student actors and crew members, and although I always smile and nod, my inner monologue is expressing anything but agreement.
As every Teaching Artist knows, there is little left to chance in any arts education experience. It takes a great deal of strategic thinking, careful planning and plain hard work to achieve the desired outcome, especially an outcome that looks like it all just “comes together at the end.”
Like most arts educators, I work very hard to keep the focus on the students’ process throughout the rehearsal period and let the final product take care of itself. However, to do that requires a strict daily rehearsal plan, a willingness to accept imperfection along the way and the constant reminder that adult egos have no place in arts education. When Teaching Artists focus on the quality of students’ works as validation of their own worth as artists, the students are no longer being served.
Theatre is my particular discipline, and I certainly love a good show as much as the next person. I want my students to have a great experience during the rehearsal process, culminating in a production in which they can be genuinely proud of what they have accomplished. I am focused on student success every moment of every rehearsal. I use every teaching skill and performance trick I have accumulated over many years as an actor, director, writer and teacher. I explain, encourage, cajole, insist, cheerlead, demonstrate and inspire. I do whatever it takes to get the best performance from every member of the cast. But ultimately, they must be allowed to fail.
This is the secret weapon of the first dress rehearsal. By allowing students to fail while still in the protected environment of rehearsal, we are giving them the greatest educational opportunity possible. Through a myriad of mistakes, dropped lines, misplaced props, mangled dances and the inevitable missed entrance, students are forced to take responsibility for their own work. It is through these “mistakes” that the greatest learning happens. The student who misses his entrance, and accepts personal responsibility for doing so, will never miss that entrance again.
If there is truly magic in the theatre, it happens somewhere between the first tech/dress rehearsal and opening night. Grounded in hours of preparation, student actors are finally prepared to enter the crucible of live performance. If I have done my job well, they will be able to do so with confidence and joy. But ultimately, they must take the final steps on their own.
As every Teaching Artist knows, there is little left to chance in any arts education experience. It takes a great deal of strategic thinking, careful planning and plain hard work to achieve the desired outcome, especially an outcome that looks like it all just “comes together at the end.”
Like most arts educators, I work very hard to keep the focus on the students’ process throughout the rehearsal period and let the final product take care of itself. However, to do that requires a strict daily rehearsal plan, a willingness to accept imperfection along the way and the constant reminder that adult egos have no place in arts education. When Teaching Artists focus on the quality of students’ works as validation of their own worth as artists, the students are no longer being served.
Theatre is my particular discipline, and I certainly love a good show as much as the next person. I want my students to have a great experience during the rehearsal process, culminating in a production in which they can be genuinely proud of what they have accomplished. I am focused on student success every moment of every rehearsal. I use every teaching skill and performance trick I have accumulated over many years as an actor, director, writer and teacher. I explain, encourage, cajole, insist, cheerlead, demonstrate and inspire. I do whatever it takes to get the best performance from every member of the cast. But ultimately, they must be allowed to fail.
This is the secret weapon of the first dress rehearsal. By allowing students to fail while still in the protected environment of rehearsal, we are giving them the greatest educational opportunity possible. Through a myriad of mistakes, dropped lines, misplaced props, mangled dances and the inevitable missed entrance, students are forced to take responsibility for their own work. It is through these “mistakes” that the greatest learning happens. The student who misses his entrance, and accepts personal responsibility for doing so, will never miss that entrance again.
If there is truly magic in the theatre, it happens somewhere between the first tech/dress rehearsal and opening night. Grounded in hours of preparation, student actors are finally prepared to enter the crucible of live performance. If I have done my job well, they will be able to do so with confidence and joy. But ultimately, they must take the final steps on their own.
Tuesday, July 27, 2010
The Artist and His Ego
What the world needs is more geniuses with humility, there are so few of us left. ~Oscar Levant
Artists have egos, just like attorneys, heart surgeons and auto mechanics. This is not to say they have over sized egos; in fact, it has been my personal experience that people who are actively engaged in the pursuit of any artistic discipline tend toward the more emotionally healthy end of the spectrum. It does not seem to matter if they are professional artists, or if their work is purely avocational (I won't use the detested word "amateur." That's a subject for another post.) Suffice to say that creating art feeds the ego, or the soul, depending on your spiritual leanings. That's a good thing.
So what are the implications for the Teaching Artist? First of all, when you are in the role of the Teaching Artist, there is an immediate shift in your priorities. This occurs whether you are an acclaimed professional who takes a day away from the studio to teach a master class, or if you have spent most of your life in the classroom. During your time as a Teaching Artist, you are putting aside your personal artistic journey for a time to focus on your students. These students may be very young children discovering water colors, or teens sweating their way thorough a jazz combination, or senior citizens in a journaling workshop. During your time with your students the artistic journey belongs to them.
This shift is not always made easily. Many of us have grown up saying to the world at large "Hey everybody, look at me! Look at what I can do! Look at this bright, shiny wonderful thing I have made!" We may have been rewarded for our art, comforted by our art, and even in many ways, defined by our art. But in the role of the Teaching Artist, we are no longer defined by our own art; instead, we are defined by our students' experiences. Note that I am not saying we are defined by their work; their work is what it is, at whatever their stage of development. They are responsible for their own work. Your job is to teach skills, provide context, guide,connect and inspire. In an experientially based arts class, the most important thing a student takes away from a teacher is the confidence to take the next step.
None of this is to suggest that we should abandon our own art. Far from it! The best Teaching Artists are those who are actively pursuing their own artistic work outside of their teaching time. Those who let their own artistic journey end and become only teachers, rather than Teaching Artists, are subject to disillusionment, burnout and bitterness.
So continue with your own journey. Find joy in your own process that you can share with your students. Make discoveries that you can bring to the classroom. But when we are with our students, we must say to the world "Hey everybody, look! Look! Look at what these kids can do!"
Artists have egos, just like attorneys, heart surgeons and auto mechanics. This is not to say they have over sized egos; in fact, it has been my personal experience that people who are actively engaged in the pursuit of any artistic discipline tend toward the more emotionally healthy end of the spectrum. It does not seem to matter if they are professional artists, or if their work is purely avocational (I won't use the detested word "amateur." That's a subject for another post.) Suffice to say that creating art feeds the ego, or the soul, depending on your spiritual leanings. That's a good thing.
So what are the implications for the Teaching Artist? First of all, when you are in the role of the Teaching Artist, there is an immediate shift in your priorities. This occurs whether you are an acclaimed professional who takes a day away from the studio to teach a master class, or if you have spent most of your life in the classroom. During your time as a Teaching Artist, you are putting aside your personal artistic journey for a time to focus on your students. These students may be very young children discovering water colors, or teens sweating their way thorough a jazz combination, or senior citizens in a journaling workshop. During your time with your students the artistic journey belongs to them.
This shift is not always made easily. Many of us have grown up saying to the world at large "Hey everybody, look at me! Look at what I can do! Look at this bright, shiny wonderful thing I have made!" We may have been rewarded for our art, comforted by our art, and even in many ways, defined by our art. But in the role of the Teaching Artist, we are no longer defined by our own art; instead, we are defined by our students' experiences. Note that I am not saying we are defined by their work; their work is what it is, at whatever their stage of development. They are responsible for their own work. Your job is to teach skills, provide context, guide,connect and inspire. In an experientially based arts class, the most important thing a student takes away from a teacher is the confidence to take the next step.
None of this is to suggest that we should abandon our own art. Far from it! The best Teaching Artists are those who are actively pursuing their own artistic work outside of their teaching time. Those who let their own artistic journey end and become only teachers, rather than Teaching Artists, are subject to disillusionment, burnout and bitterness.
So continue with your own journey. Find joy in your own process that you can share with your students. Make discoveries that you can bring to the classroom. But when we are with our students, we must say to the world "Hey everybody, look! Look! Look at what these kids can do!"
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