Tag Archives: Art

Interested In Us

I can’t believe we have only been in school for a week. I often feel like a tornado, who touches down occasionally to stir up some dust, only to take flight again. Lost in the clouds, in an adrenaline infused buzz that is nothing if not invigorating.

image by RaGardner4

I am shuffling several To-Do list at the moment. This from a guy who has always mentally calculated his tasks. I will not bore you with the litany of items populating said lists, but I will briefly mention that the only thing that is calming me down is the current loud guitar in my headphones and the ease with which I am writing these words.

Let’s do some stream of consciousness and see where we end up: Rolling out this blogging platform is great, exciting, perfect. Tedious, painful, time consuming. It is one thing to be given a blog and told to sell it to kids, but it is another to create a system-wide platform from scratch. Dealing with back-end issues, teachers doing too much, others not doing enough is proving to be exhausting. I have never been a type-A systems guy. I can do ideas. Give me design and inspiration, artistic management and I will deliver, but organization? Action plans? Timetables have never been my forte.

I am learning. I am stretching. I am growing. I love it. Everyday is another set of problems that I am somehow instrumental in solving (Or am I creating them?) Honestly, I haven’t felt this jazzed and energetic about a project in years. I have already mentioned the stress and the problems, but that is not where I want to dwell. Simply put, I am dealing with a massive year long roll out that I am trying to get out the door the first month back to school. Simple solution: Slow down. Breathe. It will get done. Look back at what has already been done and take pride in that. Is my oft forgotten mantra.

In addition to all the tech-coach stuff, there is of course my classes this year. Grade 6 Language B, a grade 7 Language A, and a grade 10 Language A class. I have met with them all at least once, and I have decided to start the year by focusing on two main ideas: Community and self as writer/artist.

I am emphasizing that English class need not be a den of grammar death and academic boredom. It is not all spelling tests and essays. We have been talking about what makes community: shared goals, trust, honesty, communication, love (at least respect), connections. I have brainstormed community with all my classes and they have all come up with basically the same things. Apparently identifying components of  a community is much easier that creating one. We have discussed the value of building a safe place built on trust to help foster creativity and expression.

Which brings me to the second big idea for the year: What does it mean to use writing as a tool for expression? I am a firm believer that people who do not understand the power of writing will never be great writers. I want to create writers in my class. I am not interested in students who can write an essay or pass an IB exam. I want to create artists. My thinking, obviously, is that once you tap into a persons creative core, the rest will follow. Anyone who understand writing, can jump through the hoops, but it is difficult to do it the other way around.

We have spoken about the tender fragility of our creativity and imaginations. We have thought about how most adults we know don’t actually write. Create art. Take photographs. Get silly. Open up and play. The consensus was that there aren’t too many of these adults in their lives. They have few artistic role models. I made a promise to help them see that we exist. That there are people who write books for the fun of it. People who juggle several art projects at a time because it feeds their soul. We  also discussed the fact that once you allow your creativity to wane, worrying about grades and school,  jobs and bills and life, that it is difficult to bring an imagination  back to life.

Yeah, the tech stuff is stressful. Yes, I am also now also thinking about my cohort in Shanghai, but I am smart enough to know, that it is in my classroom  having conversations with kids that I feel the most alive. Want proof? A fellow teacher’s daughter is in my grade 10 class. I just received the following email:

Hiya,

just thought i’d let you know what ________ told me about her first English class today….. and i quote…..”he’s amazing! You can just tell that he really loves teaching and he was actually interested in us”She came home really excited about learning and spent time telling me about the class. A good start to the year!!

So thanks!

And really, is there nothing else that matters more than a student realizing that after one meeting?

Do You Love Me?

If you blog for long enough, I suppose, you will eventually begin to repeat yourself. It can feel like a never-ending cycle of repetition, but who is to say that revisiting themes is necessarily a bad thing? So I apologize if I have written about this topic before, but my good friend Ari over at We Buy Balloons recently emailed me a link to this article with a request to write on the subject with careful consideration, as the affliction mention in the article is the same from which he claims to suffer. Although, I have linked to the article itself, I will quote it at length below, so please stay with us till then end. In short the post claims:

The Internet measures everything. And I am a slave to those measurements. After so many years of pushing much of my life through this screen, I’ve started measuring my experiences and my sense of self-worth using the same metrics as the Internet uses to measure success. I check my stats relentlessly. The sad truth is that I spend more time measuring than I spend doing.

I used to feel an immediate sense of accomplishment when I wrote an article or came up with a joke that I thought was good. Now that feeling is always delayed until I see how the material does. How many views did my article get? Did it get mentioned the requisite number of times on Twitter and Facebook. I need to see the numbers.

And I define myself by those numbers.

I judge the quality of my writing by looking at the traffic to my articles. I assess the humor of my jokes by counting retweets. My status updates, shared links, and photos of my kids need a certain number of Likes to be a success. How am I doing? That depends on how many friends I have, how many followers, how much traffic.

What David Pell describes in his post, what bothers my friend Ari, and those of us involved in this game called social media is the feeling that our thoughts, our art, our creations, our words, and in turn ourselves are only as valuable as the amount of attention they receive from the network of “friends” we have been able to cull from the web.

Before I try to offer up answers or justifications of why this need for affirmation isn’t as big of a problem as many think, let me first admit that I check my stats.  I am pretty stoked to be nearing 3,000 followers on Twitter. I google myself often and enjoy hearing my voice echoed back to me via the web. The question I suppose we are left asking is, is that a problem? Is wanting/needing affirmation a bad thing? Is it vain or needy to place your self-worth in the hands of others? Before we get to that answer, I want to make a claim that this discussion has little to do with the Internet. (*The need for acceptance and identity creation has implications for our students. I will try to touch on this idea at the end of this post.) Sure the Internet has made it easy to see how much attention each pixel of our collective self receives via Re-Tweets, views, Likes and other affirmative statistics, but I claiming that the need to be heard and accepted has always been a  part of our human psychology; the Internet has only exacerbated  our ability to monitor it.

I think the need to be heard and told we are valued is not only at the core of human psychology, but intricately connected to the very purpose of art. Yes, I understand that much of art is personal and cathartic. Why the artist creates is a question that we will never answer, but we can all agree that while some artists create art for the sake self-healing, many also create art to connect to others. Art is the ultimate act of sharing and openness. Audience is an inherent part of art. It has to be. The dance between creator and observer is what makes art so powerful. Let’s face it most people who create, write, paint, perform are needy. We have a void in our souls that can only be filled when others connect to our creations. We feel alive when our art helps others see who we are.

by Ari Zeiger

I have had this need to share and connect with people for as long as I can remember. Does this make me vain or needy? Lacking in self-confidence? Perhaps. But that is the nature to which I have grown fond. The spaces between a robust self-esteem and crippling anxiety is tenuous at best. The difference between the vain rock star and the nervous introvert can be nothing more than a pair of sunglasses and a bottle of whiskey. What I am trying to say is that, while the Internet magnifies our anxieties about whether or not we matter, most artist have always needed to be told they are relevant. Before the Internet did not authors worry about book sales, artists by number of guests at openings and paintings sold? While stats, numbers, sales, and reviews have always been a part of sharing, statistics have never slowed art down. I am sure the first caveman looked for a round of grunts and nods after he first sketched a picture of the hunt on the cold stonewall.

When I was younger, in my twenties, I would scribble poetry, stories, and other random observations into journals. These thoughts were very similar to my current blog posts, Tweets, and other ideas I share online. Back then I would scatter these journals on coffee table tops and would love when people would flip though them at parties. I would watch them wrinkle their faces in confusion or smile in understanding. I could feel them entering my consciousness through a shared understanding of not only who I was, but who they were. I was just not smart enough to leave a little comment box at the bottom of my journal pages, because I wanted more than anything to hear what they thought.

It is true that the web can enhance our neurosis and self-doubt. It can cripple the act of creation if we allow it to magnify our fears and misgivings. It can force us to place our self-worth in the hands of a fluctuating audience, and yes this can have disastrous effects, but this is not the fault of the web. This neurosis is rooted in our collective human psychology of needing love and acceptance. There are people much smarter than me with more letters after their names, who I am sure can write much more intellectually than me on the subject, but that has never stopped me from offering my opinion.

Each person must decide how their self-worth is derived. Each one of us has to decide what we are worth despite the Internet not because of it. Some days we feel like we can carry the world, while others we need to be told we are special. Understanding this dance and going with the flow is the most important thing an artist can learn to do. This was true before the web and it is even truer now.

It is nice to have a post re-tweeted and shared and “liked” and commented on. It makes us feel like our ideas are important and that others “get” us. It is great to make a film and get a couple thousands hits on Youtube. It feels warm in the heart to watch people connect to you words. It feels great to recieve emails from people who say they get what you are doing. Saying they respect you and your work. It is nice to go to conference and have drunken peers say they admire you. It is great to have fans. It feels good to be loved. How can it not? But the question we must ask ourselves is how much of what we do is for them? How much is for me? And how much is for us?

I could get wrapped up in the numbers, and I admit that I sometimes do, but I am learning that I  share and let spill what I cannot hold inside. All I can do is hope that others connect. I have the audacity to write  a book about my life and think people will care. That is the biggest cry for attention I can think of and that has nothing to do with the Internet or numbers, but I have found the less I worry about the numbers and focus on creating honest work filled with energy and passion the more the numbers tend to rise; the more comments I receive. Someday this fragile network I have cobbled together could all dry up and I could end up writing a blog no one reads, or scribble back into journals I leave on coffee tables in vacant rooms. A book no one buys. Either way, I know that  sometimes I create art to help lighten the load and guide me through the darkness and sometimes I share what I share for you dear reader and I wouldn’t have it any other way.

Show me you understand. Show me you love me. Show me I matter. Leave a comment. Re-Tweet. Like me on Facebook. Let this post get a 1000 hits. Let it go viral and get me a book deal. Let it shine a light on all the world and make me a god! Or just skim it, mark it as read, and chalk up to more gibberish coming to you through your informationally overloaded brain. There will be more tomorrow. I am valuable whether you tell me I am or not. How do I know? Just a promise I made to myself as a child. It is not too late make yourself that promise right now….let’s see what you got!

I will save the my thoughts on how young adults deal with the dance between confidence and anxiety and how the new online social reality is affecting their identity creation for another post, or maybe in the comments. But I will say that right now I am listening to the Beatles and this is a great first step to helping young people understand how to deal with the world wide web:

 

A Letter to James

I received the following email today from a former student from Doha who is now living in Nigeria:

Hello sir,

It’s been quite a while indeed! I can begin to tell you all I have experienced in Nigeria. I thought you were facing some problems when I sent you a message and you didn’t reply. But, James M. told me you were alright. So, I felt compelled to give it another shot.

Education here is really hard and rigorous and I’m in year 10. It’s really hard keeping up with my blog cause it’s hard getting internet. But, fortunately am on holiday and my dad got a really good internet. So I have decided to go back to writing the way YOU have taught me and not the way they teach me here in Nigeria. They write with FORMULAS for god’s sake. I scream at friends that they should learn to express themselves freely and not like a robot! They just stare at me as if am stupid. But I can’t blame them. That’s how they’ve been taught since they were kids. Anyways, I found a really good website for teenage writers called ”young writers society”. You post your work and other writer’s around the world review it. It’s like a blog but better cause it’s mainly a society filled with people my age. You could search me up on this name ”Temi”. I have also been in touch with James M. and his blog and he seems to get smarter everyday. . It’s sickening feeling. One that if I don’t run away from it would take over all my consciousness. Then I would become a robot too. I can’t let that happen.

I hope you reply, I miss you sir. See you in the future.

My response:

Dear James,
I just sent you a quick email informing you that I could not respond to your note tonight, because I am too busy. It is a quiet Wednesday night and I am getting ready to write for a few hours. I am working on a book, you see, and I have committed myself to at least seven hundred and fifty words a night. As I clicked send, however, I couldn’t stop thinking about you and your words. Realizing that there is nothing more urgent than the words I should share with you at this time, I decided to use my seven hundred and fifty words to write to you, because really what writing could I do that would be any more important than this?

You are the reason why I am here, James. You are the reason I teach, I write, I grow, I learn, I love. I live. I am here for you and every kid like you who has ever felt, “I can’t wait to get out and start feeling like a human being again and not like a robot.” I have been there, James. I was born there, James. I am still there, James. The world is not an easy place for individuals. It is not made for freedom and dreams, no matter what we tell ourselves. We are buried under culture and religion and societal expectations. We are buried under our own anxiety, not to mention the needs of our friends and family.

But sometimes, some of us, see the cracks in the walls. We usually see them when we are young. I think I saw it first when I was eight, but before we know it, we feel like we must scream at our friends when they follow formulas. We want to shake the world awake and express ourselves in whatever form we feel necessary. Adults find spontaneous need for expression this scary. They box it and shape it and label it and try to turn it into a future, a career, security, but the problem is that you cannot confine freedom. It is who we are. It is our nature.

I teach not because I am an expert. I have no answers. I am lost and wandering. I teach because I am attracted to that youthful freedom. It still burns within me, and honestly most adults have long lost the passion that got them through their adolescence. They lie to themselves using words like maturity, security, and responsibility, when really they should be using words like regret, compromise, and loss.

What am I trying to say? Am I just rambling to fill my quota? I am trying to say that you have a gift, James. Insight. Passion. Drive. Talent. Love. Thirst. Curiosity. The world will do its best to chip away at each of these characteristics. I don’t need to tell you that. Look around, you see it everywhere you look. It is not unique to Nigeria. Trust me.

I remember one time in class you said something like, “Mr. Raisdana you see the world in such ugly shades and notice everything that is wrong. How can you sleep at night?” Do you remember that? The answer is still the same: I see the world as it is. Sure it will get us down, sure it is not how we want it to be, sure it will try to turn us into robots who write by using formulas, it will force us to take accounting instead of art, it will tell us to grow up, but we must not allow it to extinguish the fire inside each of us.

That is all we have, James. Those tiny flickering flames of hope and daring. Of love and passion inside of you is the same one inside of me. It is the same energy in every dreamer and artists, every saint and prophet. This fervor of the imagination is what keeps us going. It is why you are emailing me and why I am writing you with tears in my eyes. It is not childish or disillusioned. It is what will keep you sane. It is what will keep you company when everything else is too much to bare. It will sing you to sleep and point out the moon when you are alone. It will write your books, paint your pictures, make your films, and carry you on stage. It will support you when there is no one else, but most importantly…it will help you find the flame inside others.

It is what has brought you here. It is why I teach, why I write, why I share and create. I tend my flame and hope that others will be drawn to it. Because if it goes out…well let’s not think of that. Thank you for thinking of me and more importantly writing to me James. I have been receiving emails like yours from students from all around the world for years, and I can honestly say that these emails are the most important part of my life. As teachers we are often vilified, but to know that our passions are passed on is the most rewarding thing I could ever imagine.

I will look you up on that website and you can always find me online. The future is far and wide. I am sure our paths will cross. You are not a robot, no matter what they say! You are one of the most intelligent and passionate artists I have ever met just hold onto that. I hope you don’t mind that I have shared this on my blog. I am hoping that others will join in and share their thoughts. We are individuals, but there is power in the communities we build. Society is not only what others say it is. It does not control us completely. We have a say. We have a right to share this flame. I hope who ever is reading this will do just that…

Minimalist Movie Poster

Description: Create a minimalistic poster for a  film, TV series, etc. Look at these awesome examples using the various locations in the original Star Wars trilogy.

McMurphy: Which one of you nuts has got any guts?

McMurphy: I can’t take it no more. I gotta get outta here.
Chief Bromden: I can’t. I just can’t.
McMurphy: It’s easier than you think, Chief.
Chief Bromden: For you, maybe. You’re a lot bigger than me.

I’ve been thinking of various ideas for this assignment for a few days now, but  I knew it had to be this film. It is one of my all time favorites. The themes from the book about rebellion, society, and authority strike a strong chord with me, and I love the acting and direction by Milos Forman.

I was a bit worried it wasn’t minimal enough, but I think I nailed two of the big ideas of the film. Would love to hear your thoughts on the poster, the book, or the film. Never a bad time to discuss the rebel and society.