ALT/space

It was early December. Outside, a steady wind was whipping snow into curling drifts around the school building. Inside, it was silent. I was in the 3T classroom at Akiuk School in the Yup’ik Alaska Native village of Kasigluk. The students were sitting quietly at their desks, each with a puppet  lying on the tabletop in front of them. I’d asked a student a question. And I was waiting. The student was reticent to speak in front of his peers. I encounter such diffidence regularly among Yup’ik young people, at all age levels. Each time, I find myself struggling to nudge students to take risks while at the same time acknowledging their cultural and personal boundaries. So there I was, unsure of what to do next, with the student seated quietly before me. I was waiting.

Akiuk School is part of the Lower Kuskokwim School District, based in Bethel, Alaska. The district hosts a strong arts integration program called Project Pilinguat  (“to create” or “to make”). This is my sixth year visiting Akiuk School. If you come to the school in late spring or early fall, when the river is still open, you’re met by someone at the Kasigluk airstrip who leads you to a small flat-bottom skiff with an outboard motor. You find a place to sit among your bags and the gas and oilcans, then ride the mile or so down the Johnson River to Akiuk, where the school is. It seems like nothing surrounds this place but flat green tundra and great blue sky. A string of power lines stretches off across the lakes and ponds toward the next village a few miles away.

In cold-weather visits like this December trip, that boat is replaced by a snowmachine.(The school has a yellow machine; the principal likes to call it “the school bus.”) Suitcases and supplies—along with mail and cases of soda pop and anything else that might have arrived on the plane with you—are heaped into a plywood sled hooked to the machine. You hop in the sled as well, or on the backseat of the machine if you’re lucky and there’s room. It’s a bumpy, cold ride along the river, where small willow trees have been drilled into the ice every twenty feet or so to help drivers stick to the trail when wind or a storm kicks up.

The driver of the boat or snowmachine is usually a school maintenance staffer. Sometimes I get a ride from the village airline agent, who spends her day listening to the VHF radio scratching in the corner of her kitchen, waiting for the next plane to approach so she can drop off cargo and pick up bags of mail. These jobs are some of the few sources of cash income in most rural Alaska villages. Other community members who get paychecks include the post office clerk; the cashier at “the Native store,” the general store owned and operated by the local Native corporation; and the staffers at the city council and tribal offices. Some communities have a village police officer, too. Many people subsist on hunting and fishing for food and animal skins, as their predecessors have done for generations. Nowadays, grant funds and subsidy checks help families with the cost of fuel, guns, and other amenities like fleece pullovers or fresh milk.

Meanwhile, at the village school, young people are learning content driven by mandates from the U.S. Department of Education in Washington, D.C. Sometimes, what they’re learning doesn’t seem to have direct application to life in the village. There is a slow-growing movement to increase the corps of Yup’ik teachers in this region; usually, though, the teachers are outsiders, as am I.

For my December visit to Akiuk School, the bulk of my baggage consisted of plastic bins stuffed with puppet-making materials—dowels, fabric, foam balls, glue, and more. This year in Project Pilinguat, I’m focusing on puppetry work with students and teachers—leading in-class puppetry lessons to support academic instruction, as well as designing and rehearsing student puppet performances for the district-wide arts event in Bethel coming at the end of the school year.

At Akiuk, I spent a fair bit of time with the “3T” students—children who are 3^rd-grade aged, in a classroom where the teacher’s attention is on transitioning them (hence the “T”) out of Yup’ik-language-only instruction and into English-language instruction. This process of shifting students from Yup’ik to English immersion becomes a necessity for the administrators of the school and the district, beholden as they are to Department of Education mandates, because students begin taking state standardized tests in the 3^rd grade. From here forward into upper grade levels, students will attend classes in the tested content areas in English, and Yup’ik class will become a “special,” like P.E. or music.

Read More

I am supposed to be finishing the lesson plans for a brand spanking new residency that just got moved up a week because the teacher has been asked to attend a conference. It’s one of those rare situations where I will be delivering one residency to 6^th graders and a completely different, completely new residency to 8^th graders. I should have started weeks ago. I couldn’t. I was teaching play writing then, not social studies.

And, now I have writer’s block. It sounds strange to say that I have residency writer’s block. Maybe it happens because I’m a procrastinator at heart and my creativity builds as the deadline looms. Maybe it’s just an excuse to play more Spider Solitaire, but I’m afraid that writer’s block is one of the steps I have to go through when I commit my thoughts to paper. I think that “writer’s block” is the right term because I believe that writing residencies is very creative. And, like other creative pursuits, such as playing a role on stage, I have a “process” that I go through when writing a new program.

So, to celebrate my writer’s block, I will look away from what I should be doing right now in order to explore how I do it. My fingers are crossed that this will help me get back on track and meet my deadlines again in a couple of hours. There’s time.

As a teacher-trainer, I talk about curriculum and lesson plan writing as forms of creative writing. There’s a way to bring a student along the educational path you place before them, replete with interesting diversions and challenges. I ask teachers and teaching artists to think of the Aristotelian-based concept of the 5-act structure when writing curriculum.  It really works.  The teacher becomes both playwright and director.

Act I – Exposition. In Act I, the audience is introduced to all the characters and concepts that they’ll be working with for the rest of the play. As audience members, we begin to make decisions about how we feel about these things right away. (Good writing will often flip the audience’s ideas on their heads by the end of the play, however.) This act has to grab the audience’s attention while also giving them lots of critical, but perhaps dry, information. We learn the who, what, where, when and how through dialogue and action.

In my new “play,” (aka the new residency) the content is the Constitutional Convention and the characters are the men that were in attendance. For my Act I, I will introduce the characters through a little suspense and mystery. I have created (am creating) a fact sheet on each of the attendants of the Constitutional Convention. Students will draw characters at random. No one will have the same character. In this case, exposition will happen as the students digest the research material in order to complete a character worksheet about their individual historic figure.

Read More

This month I had originally planned to conclude my series on Arts in Education: There’s an App for That but, after a recent funding round for arts in education programs, something else is burning to get out and onto paper.  If you are like me, much of the work you do is dependent on funding from sources such as schools, foundations, corporation or the government.  I don’t think any of us can make a living without assistance from an outside source, and therein lies the rub.

Because I am often asking someone for money, it seems someone is always editing my work and filtering it through the lens through which they view the world,  be it funders, teachers, parents, administrators, politicians, educators, consumers, or other artists, to name a few.  Most of the time I find this to be a very productive process.   It demands that I take a closer look at what I am doing and why I am doing it.  In viewing my work through another‘s lens I have grown as an artist, teacher and human being. 

For example, being forced to view my artist teaching through a regular teacher’s lens eventually led me to get a M.Ed., which in turn led me to getting an M.S in Teaching with Technology.   All of these things have shaped my ever changing process of how I work as a teaching artist.  Recently, however, I have been confronted with the conservative lens of society viewing my work.  The political climate of some granting sources I have had contact with seems to be, “money is tight, conservatives are vocal, don’t chance it by funding something that might offend someone.  Now add into the mix that the something or someone continually changes and is dependent on the climate, so we can never be quite sure what the offending it might be. 

Here is my dilemma - do I censor student artists’ voices simply because a segment of society finds works of art based on teenagers’ harsher realities objectionable?  Do I forego the funding (and, in the process, my salary) or do I cave and change my focus to safer topics, so that I receive funding?  Is there a place for socially responsible art creation, political art creation, healing art creation, and controversial art creation when working with young artists?  Finally, what is our responsibility, as teaching artists, to the voice of the next generation of art creators?   Do I need to pay attention to the conservative lenses viewing my work or do I stand firm?  Or maybe the question is simply, is it ever valid to look at artistic work in terms of “what is fundable”? 

Whether or not I ever find answers to these questions, I believe these young people have a voices that needs to be heard.  I believe in empowering these young people to create works of original theater using their life experiences and the lessons they have learned, often through harsh circumstances.  I have seen transformational things happen in the classroom, the school community, and the lives of these young people as they work through the process. 

I could fill pages with stories of young people who got better grades, were reunited with parents, started coming to school regularly, formed strong relationships with mentors, stopped using drugs and alcohol, made wiser choices, etc. by creating original works of theater, based on “their voice” and what they needed to say as an artist – not by what I thought they needed to say.  And here lies the heart of the problem.

If you give young artists a voice, they will use it.  They will write poetry, create music, choreograph dances, take photographs, make films and act out scenes about teen pregnancy, peer pressure about sex, drugs, and alcohol, cheating, the changing moral fiber of society, gangs, parental authority and politics; but they will do the same about friendship, grace, redemption, heroism, love, patriotism, and whatever the higher power is they believe in.  I believe I have a responsibility to encourage and support the artistic voices of tomorrow.  It is why I became a teaching artist.  What do you think?  I’d love to hear your thoughts.

Linda Bruning is a theater teaching artist based in Minneapolis, Minnesota with 20 plus years in the field. She has a “freshly minted” Masters in Education with an emphasis in Arts in Education and Online Learning.   Linda is also a theater director, an actor and writes children’s theater scripts.  Her passion is helping disadvantaged young people find their voice through theater.  In her spare time, you will also find her gardening, backpacking, hiking, camping and reading.  Her newest best friends are the Earthway high wheel cultivator and her Kindle.  She is a true geek so, of course, she loves spending time on the computer creating new online learning programs to incorporate technology and residency work.  Contact Linda www.theheroproject.pbsworks.com

Also by Linda Bruning in ALT/space:
Arts in Education: There’s an App for That, Part One
The Reality, the Road, the Rez and U2 - The Final Installment
The Rez and How it Changed My Teaching Reality
The Road and its Reality
The Reality, The Road, The Rez and U2 
Art - Give it a Try, Don’t be a Drive-by

“Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much.” Helen Keller

It was during my Master’s Degree at New York University that I learned of the new a career path called Teaching Artistry. And, after working with various arts organizations around the city, I was offered the position of Curriculum and Publications Manager at the New Victory Theater on 42^nd Street.  It was common knowledge at NYU that the New Vic had the “Rolls Royce” of education departments in the city and a position on their team was highly sought after. The organization as a whole worked cross departmentally in order to get the most of out their programs, including the education team itself.

For me, this new “collaborative” way of working was not only stimulating but liberating; in my previous jobs, in both the UK and the US, I had been a lone wolf. Either I was the only drama teacher in a school or a part-time employee who often felt like an independent satellite.   Either way, I had never felt like I was really part of the big picture or integral to the mission and goals of the organization.  But now this had all changed.

Right away I was introduced to the Teaching Artist Ensemble just as they were about to begin a week of professional training.  Small “Show Teams” had been created, each with the task of creating a pre- and post-performance workshop; these workshops would be taught in conjunction with a show being presented as part of the New Vic’s season. Led by Education Director Dr. Edie Demas, the education staff had recently implemented a collaborative planning strategy for creating workshop lesson plans.

Each step of the planning was based on the same process a company of theater artists would use when creating a new piece of work including research, development, rehearsal and refinement. Using this structure, each New Vic Show Team developed their lesson plans based on the information they had researched about the company and the show, as well as the art form it was exploring.

During planning, each Show Team was asked to think about the intended “spark” of their workshop.  We asked ourselves how, as visiting artists do we plan on capturing each student’s imagination in order for them to be fully immersed in the work? This challenge is amplified when you include the expectations of the classroom teacher as well as the need to represent the artist’s work as intended. And often, this is all in 45 minutes!

In other words — how do we “hook” the kids? In one particular planning session my show team and I were creating curriculum around Hunchback by Redmoon Theater based in Chicago, a play which incorporated mask and puppetry into their production. We decided that each teaching artist team should take in one professionally made mask into classroom. Our objective was to share “up close” the artistry, skill and magic that goes into crafting a theatrical mask and how they have the power to transform the performer on stage.

We built an entire activity around the “reveal” of the mask to the students, including one TA diverting their attention, while the second TA dons the mask and then goes into character. In one particular school we had such an enthusiastic classroom teacher, I asked him to wear the mask and when the students saw him, their own teacher, transformed in front of their eyes – they were instantly caught up in the theatricality of the moment. It was, as they say, an “aha” moment in my teaching practice.

When going into the classroom to deliver the actual workshops, the education staff paired up two artists from the ensemble that they felt would most complement each other’s artistic and pedagogical style in the classroom.  At first, I remember contemplating why I needed a teaching partner. Surely they believed that I could handle the kids and the work on my own? But, after venturing out for my first time as a New Vic Teaching Artist, it became absolutely clear that it has nothing to do with an individual’s abilities as a facilitator and everything to do with delivering a creative and imaginative experience, full of spark and artistry, to the group of young people.

Victoria Row-Traster, Teaching Artist, Royal National Theatre, London, is part of the Primary and Early Years Program developing and delivering arts curriculum that aims to introduce students to theatre through top-quality productions. Prior to this, Victoria worked for five seasons at The New Victory Theater, New York, as Curriculum and Publications Manager, leading the development and creation of the New Vic School Tool™ resource guides. Her teaching experience ranges from early years through to university level, and her focus as a teaching artist is mainly on assisting schools and teachers to bridge the gap between the academic aspects of a piece of theatre and art form it is exploring. Victoria received a Master’s Degree in Educational Theatre from New York University and a Post Graduate Certification in Education, Drama and English from the Central School of Speech and Drama in London, England.  

Also by Victoria Row-Traster in ALT/space:
Taking Away the Chairs
Teaching Artist to Actor Teacher: UK to US and Back Again

I have turned into a techno geek.  Thanks to my recent course work in online teaching and learning at Bemidji State University, I have discovered the power and possibility of using technology in teaching.  It can make the work more accessible, add dimensions I didn’t think possible and bring the arts to students in remote places. 

In a recent residency in a small community in South Dakota, we attended a performance of Prairie Home Companion, watched a Poetry Slam in Chicago and chatted with students in a rural school in Minnesota and never left the classroom.  I am developing an online project in which students in two different schools, in two different parts of the country, will write a script and create a final product on film. 

Thanks to online, collaborative work spaces (there are many available – including PBWorks and Google Docs), Green Screen and digital filming and editing, YouTube, the Celtx group script writing site, video and voice conferencing and free classroom space on Moodle we can work together in the comfort of our own classrooms – anytime of the day or night.  This collaboration would not be possible, or affordable, without the use of technology. If I can find a way to constructively use technology in my classroom work – I will!!   I have found endless possibilities for incorporating online learning and using technology to teach the arts.  To me, this is the brave “new world” and I am Columbus on my ship.

On the plus side, using online teaching tools allows an artist to be in multiple locations at the same time, broadens options for delivery methods of instruction, opens up new avenues for creativity and adds a different mode of student engagement.  It also allows me to create digital portfolio and assessment tools - just to name a few.

When we pull out the computers, many a reluctant student participant wants to join in.  My use of technology has also allowed me to work with teachers before my arrival and develop easy to use follow up activities after I am gone.  I can also continue my correspondence with students on my chat site. I, along with my teaching artist partner, Brian Proball, have developed an online teaching site to teach playwriting, theater basics, and scene design – expanding the concept of  “residency in the school”.   A sampler is available at www.theheroesproject.net; I will be writing about that experience in a later story. 

But, like Columbus, there are navigational problems that could and do take me off course.  One of the ongoing and serious issues connected with using technology is what is referred to as “the digital divide” – or the growing and widening space for learning with technology that exists between “those who have access and those who don’t”.

I am so used to all my technology “toys” I forget there are many, many out there who do not have home computers or internet access because they can’t afford it.  Schools, across the nation, fall into all categories from one old, out of date computer in the corner of each classroom to every student having their own laptop, reading tablets and constant access to wireless Internet.

Another hurdle is every school district has a different technology policy concerning access on school computers and the Internet.   These policies are in place for sound reasons – from students being able to access inappropriate materials to the chance a virus could invade and destroy the entire district system.

Finally, although it may be hard to believe, despite high school students’ “so called” technical knowledge, many students don’t know how to use technology to create projects, write papers, do research, etc.  They know how to use computers and cell phones (yes, those smart phones can be used, constructively, in the classroom) for social media sites, gaming, texting and email, but, in essence, they are technologically illiterate for any constructive activities.  All of these factors come into play when designing arts in education and technology projects.

I recently completed a wonderful, technology-filled residency in Sisseton, South Dakota at The Sisseton High School.  I worked hand in hand with two dynamic English teachers – Cindy Hofland and Sharon Prendergast (who also serves as the Speech and Theater teacher).  In my next installment I will share our techno/residency experience and some student work created during the process.

Linda Bruning is a theater teaching artist based in Minneapolis, Minnesota with 20 plus years in the field. She has a “freshly minted” Masters in Education with an emphasis in Arts in Education and Online Learning.   Linda is also a theater director, an actor and writes children’s theater scripts.  Her passion is helping disadvantaged young people find their voice through theater.  In her spare time, you will also find her gardening, backpacking, hiking, camping and reading.  Her newest best friends are the Earthway high wheel cultivator and her Kindle.  She is a true geek so, of course, she loves spending time on the computer creating new online learning programs to incorporate technology and residency work.  Contact Linda www.theheroproject.pbsworks.com

Also by Linda Bruning in ALT/space:
The Reality, the Road, the Rez and U2 - The Final Installment
The Rez and How it Changed My Teaching Reality
The Road and its Reality
The Reality, The Road, The Rez and U2 
Art - Give it a Try, Don’t be a Drive-by