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IF IT WERE A SONG I'D SING IT, HERE IS MY TESTIMONY.
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after formal schooling
My most impactful, often joyful learning experiences began when I stopped going to school. My first job teaching art at a private school began with inner city blacks from Norwalk CT who were bused in for a summer program. Many stories about how my life and values were on the line while I prioritized their joy, their aptitudes and their successes (in their terms which I learned to justify and document).
Those classic low achievers
My next experience, in Darien, CT, from September to June was with mostly white students, about two-thirds lived on campus. Many were labeled as low-achievers, some were diagnosed with dyslexia and drug use was common. There was a new director who challenged me to get visible results from each student. I lived in a studio apartment connected to the art studio by a lake. We had faculty meetings every day, keeping tabs on issues and people.
Since classes were small, I could work with students individually as well as call us into clusters. My main message was loud and clear; y'all are here for your engaged learning, I'm here to interact with you on wherever your mysterious journey leads. I'll plug in materials, information, demonstrations and skills to keep you investigating.
I got permission to suspend grades and we developed self-evaluations. Students wrote about their experiences and outcomes before we met one-to-one to review. In most cases, students undervalued their work, which became an opportunity for dialogue, reflection and correction that seemed to grow their skills and identities.
Since classes were small, I could work with students individually as well as call us into clusters. My main message was loud and clear; y'all are here for your engaged learning, I'm here to interact with you on wherever your mysterious journey leads. I'll plug in materials, information, demonstrations and skills to keep you investigating.
I got permission to suspend grades and we developed self-evaluations. Students wrote about their experiences and outcomes before we met one-to-one to review. In most cases, students undervalued their work, which became an opportunity for dialogue, reflection and correction that seemed to grow their skills and identities.
a life-changing independent study
During my first year of teaching I married before my husband was hired by Goddard College so off we went. The only requirement for certification to teach in Vermont was ceramics, so in September I began an independent study with Phil Homes at Goddard (it grew into a 50 year friendship). I spent eight hours a day in the studio, mostly at the potter's wheel where I was training muscle memory and adapting to different clays. I hung around gas kilns and glass furnaces. Phil offered me a palette of firebricks and suggested I build a kiln. "I have no place for one and I don't know anything about kilns", said I. "I'll back you up", Phil said.
In January I began as assistant to potter Jean Patnode, in Stowe VT, where I mixed some glazes and stacked and unpacked his weekly firings. In the springtime, I made a trade with Mervyn Fernandez who would soon graduate from Yale architecture school but he never had built a building. All he wanted was room and board in exchange for his labor and we began to build my first studio. Mervyn taught me how to use a hammer. I was so happy building real things, moving along co-creating a life I loved living. I took those firebricks Phil offered, built my first kiln and, trembling with responsibility before lighting the gas burners I called Phil. "Now what?", I asked. My next lesson came by phone — he gave me enough to know how to proceed, what to expect and the cushion of these words, "If you have any problems, call me, even if it's in the middle of the night".
I financed this by working with plants, first at a commercial greenhouse and then at a farm — growing food was an apprenticeship with Earth. Mentors were everywhere. Every skill I learned is with me today and gives me insight and appreciation for blue and white collar workers while at the same time, when opportunities arose, I was in the midst of organizations developing.
In January I began as assistant to potter Jean Patnode, in Stowe VT, where I mixed some glazes and stacked and unpacked his weekly firings. In the springtime, I made a trade with Mervyn Fernandez who would soon graduate from Yale architecture school but he never had built a building. All he wanted was room and board in exchange for his labor and we began to build my first studio. Mervyn taught me how to use a hammer. I was so happy building real things, moving along co-creating a life I loved living. I took those firebricks Phil offered, built my first kiln and, trembling with responsibility before lighting the gas burners I called Phil. "Now what?", I asked. My next lesson came by phone — he gave me enough to know how to proceed, what to expect and the cushion of these words, "If you have any problems, call me, even if it's in the middle of the night".
I financed this by working with plants, first at a commercial greenhouse and then at a farm — growing food was an apprenticeship with Earth. Mentors were everywhere. Every skill I learned is with me today and gives me insight and appreciation for blue and white collar workers while at the same time, when opportunities arose, I was in the midst of organizations developing.
fast forward, what about justice?
August 2019, I was at a listening event convened for a mostly white community. Recorded audio stories were called in by people of color and audience was asked to listen. I left knowing how much I am racist and how I have benefited by being born white. I haven't stopped reading books about racism, oppression, caste, community organizing since then. Reading prompts me to do personal work and THAT is what counts as I decide what to do with my life. When I participated in a three part series of restorative circles on "White Silence" with Eric Butler, I was so rattled by anxiety and buried history that I took the next ten days to write my racial autobiography. Many stories rose from memory about significant events when fears and biases lead me away from opportunities when I experienced my full humanity with others. My losses were big. I've been turning back to learn how to turn forward.
Turning it forward
Vigorous work is my modus operandi. When I'm inspired by change-makers I visualize my gifts being welcome. I see myself belonging, even when other's perceptions are that I do not fit. I've witnessed my capacity to be a catalyst in groups that are facilitated to welcome each and every person.
I'm an artist, integrator and bridge-builder. Since 1972 I've been a gig worker, an independently employed free-lancer. Occasionally I was recognized for individual efforts but my peak experiences have been in groups. My auto-didactic, ecosystemic style of navigating life may suit the massive change efforts that await us all.
I'm an artist, integrator and bridge-builder. Since 1972 I've been a gig worker, an independently employed free-lancer. Occasionally I was recognized for individual efforts but my peak experiences have been in groups. My auto-didactic, ecosystemic style of navigating life may suit the massive change efforts that await us all.
