Experience Matters

One of my great frustrations with working at the Vermont Arts Council is the number of times in a week or a month that I have to explain what I do for a living. It’s not the work itself.  It’s because the best way to get people to understand what we do at the Council is to show them, not tell them, and I can’t SHOW everybody!

Experiencing art (engaging it, confronting it, attending it, or simply being in its presence) is frequently the only way to understand its intuitive and powerful impact.  I can talk until I am blue in the face to anyone about certain works, certain performances or artists that have elicited a visceral response so powerful that words simply fail to do justice to the experience.  Talking about it doesn’t have anywhere near the impact of giving people an opportunity to experience it for themselves.

Back-to-back events last week provided a wealth of opportunities for folks in Vermont to experience for themselves the power of the arts, and for one of them, it might become a life-altering experience.

On Tuesday, March 12 Legislators returning from the Town Meeting Day break were greeted by a fabulous installation in the State House Card Room by Elizabeth Billings and Cora Vail Brooks.  Consisting of large sheets of brown parcel paper with stenciled words cut out, hung from the ceiling by clips and pins, the exhibit, “Almost,” was created to gently remind anyone who came into the Card Room, that the arts surround us, invite us in, cause us to have an unexpected(?) reaction, and leave us with a changed outlook.

Judging from the responses that we saw on peoples’ faces, and the comments they wrote on our feedback sheet, we touched a lot of people, mostly in a very positive way, and created a new appreciation for art and, yes, for the Card Room itself.  The Card Room itself was a place legislators used to adjourn to while waiting for, say, conference committees to finish their work.  To pass the time, they played cards with each other.  Today, the room is used for special interest groups to share information about their causes.  In the past, the Arts Council has had displays of grantees’ works, slide-shows of cultural facilities’ improvements that we have funded, held poetry readings, and in general shared information with folks in the building about our programs and services.

This year we gave them an experience they won’t soon forget.

On the very next day we celebrated the 8^th Annual Vermont Poetry Out Loud Competition in the Barre Opera House.

For eight years, Vermont high school students have labored to learn three poems well enough to recite them in front of their school-mates, and be selected to compete in a semifinal competition in Barre.  Finalists are selected from the 30-plus semifinalists, and the winner receives some scholarship money and the opportunity to do it all over again in Washington DC against the winners from the 52 other states and jurisdictions; and his/her school receives money to purchase books.  All very simple and straightforward, right?

Wrong.  This competition is extremely intense and yet it is among the most engaging and uplifting programs we undertake.  The mechanics are straightforward, but the results are anything but.  High schoolers of all ages and types have to not just learn a poem, but inhabit it, internalize it, and make it their own.  Then they must convey the poem's meaning and power with a minimum amount of theatrics and a maximum amount of passion and oratorical skill.  Props are occasionally used, but rarely to any great effect.  This year, the most powerful competitor (in my opinion, of course!) was the guy who barely moved, but held each of us in a steely gaze, and delivered up a stunning result—using just his voice.  He didn’t win.  Instead, that honor went to Christian DeKett of St. Johnsbury Academy and if he goes on to the Nationals and does as well as last year’s Vermont entry, Claude Mumbere, his life may be truly altered in profound and exciting ways.

The real point, however, is that more than 4000 students across the state participated in the competition.  They challenged themselves to do something far outside their normal comfort-zone.  It was far more than learning the words (which I gather is the easy part).  The students not only had to truly understand the poems, they then had to bring that awareness and understanding to the audience, especially the judges.  The judges, in turn, were looking at the difficulty of the poem, the student’s understanding, his/her ability to convey that understanding, his/her delivery, and the quality of the overall performance. 

So many critical skills come in to play for the participants.  In addition to the poem itself, the student has to consider the impact of the clothes they wear, how they approach the microphone, the tone and volume of the voice they use, the degree to which they can overcome their natural fear of being in the spotlight and being judged. 

Probably only a handful or two of those participating will go on to a career in the arts, and fewer still will become poets.  But I can absolutely guarantee that 10, 20, 50 years from now, when asked by a friend or family-member what do they remember most about high school, most will probably say, the experience that this competition gave them. 

Learning is no more about rote memorization than education is just about training.  There are times when rote memorization helps achieve a certain end and when training kicks in and enables us to respond automatically to a set of circumstances that might (as in a fist-fight) save our hides.  But learning and understanding require a deeper commitment that serves as a gateway to life-long learning.

This is what the arts can do.  This is why adding the A (Arts) to STEM instruction is so vitally important.  We can all be trained up in the specifics of science, technology, engineering, and math, but it is the Arts that enable us to learn and to live.

Hi Ho, Silver Bullet!

A legislator asked me last week what the Vermont Arts Council was doing to create jobs in Vermont.  The current recession has gone on for so long and transformed our historical employment patterns to such a degree that it appears that the only relevant public policy conversation anyone can have now is about jobs.  It is an important and relevant topic for everyone, including the arts community.

The legislator was talking with me about our request for a 100% increase in our State Appropriation and her concern was that we were asking for an increase even as Federal funds for low-income heating assistance were being diminished, food bank shortages were mounting, and essential health and human services were being discontinued.  In that context, it was going to be hard to entertain a request for more support for the Arts in Vermont.  It might sound a little like asking for more sheet music for the string quartet on the deck of the Titanic.

Here, then, is what the Arts Council is doing about job creation. In collaboration with State and local partners too numerous to mention, we are:

·        Strengthening our educational system so that our students are not just “taught to the test” but are being trained to think critically about core subject areas, make public presentations on topics they have researched themselves, and work collaboratively with their peers on complex projects to “bring them in on deadline” (this is 21^st Century Creative Workforce Training at its best; turning STEM to STEAM!)

·        Constantly encouraging our local partners to create meaningful public places and ceremonial activities (like First Nights or multicultural Farmers’ Markets) in our downtowns which, in turn, encourage people to open new businesses or relocate already existing businesses to those places (Creative Placemaking for one and all!)

·        Providing core business training to artist/entrepreneurs through our “Breaking into Business” and “Nonprofit Management Training” workshops and scholarships (No, fries don’t come with that…)

·        Supporting the delicate infrastructure that supports the Arts sector statewide; a sector that ALREADY employs 6,400 people (more than are employed in Vermont’s insurance sector), and is the source of nearly $19.5 million in state and local tax revenues (Wait…repeat that please?  One more time?!)

Here is the first message we must constantly hammer home:  the Arts are a force to be reckoned with. 

It is not just that the Arts entertain and enlighten (which, of course, they do).  It is also that they employ, beautify, revitalize, and pay taxes.  Artists are often the first to move in to a “depressed area” to revitalize it. Artists need space, time, and an affordable (read “inexpensive”) cost of living. This has been true in places like Soho and Chelsea in New York City, and increasingly in Vermont in towns like Brandon, Barre, White River Junction, and South Burlington.  Bring in art and artists, and revitalization is just a matter of time…

Here is the second message that we must constantly remind policy makers: the State budget consists of an expense side and a revenue side.  Right now, state and local investment in the Arts sector is less than $3 million dollars (of which $500,000 is the Arts Council’s appropriation). Revenues from the sector, as mentioned above, are nearly $19.5 million.  If the State needs additional revenue for LIHEAP or the Vermont Food Bank, or to address any of the countless societal needs that this recession has wrought, it seems like a little more investment in the Arts sector could quite possibly be the “silver bullet” that policy-makers have been looking for all these years. 

If you think this is true, you are not alone.  No one wins when we each act like a Lone Ranger where supporting the Arts is concerned.  Join our effort to double the Council’s budget by contacting Governor Shumlin today!

Hi Ho, Silver Bullet…Away!

Education and the Arts: Vermont

[Taken from the annual State of the Arts speech, given at the Annual Meeting of the Vermont Arts Council, June 5, 2012 in the Vermont State House, Montpelier, Vermont]

In the middle of my sixth grade year my family moved from upstate NY to Brooklyn and enrolled me in a highly progressive experimental school called St. Ann’s.  Not quite 11 years old, and wearing a Nehru jacket that my mother assured me was all the rage, I walked into the school on my first day, with my heart pounding in the back of my throat.   

The very first impression I had was that, compared to the sedate western Massachusetts school I had said goodbye to the Friday before, this was complete chaos.

First there was the noise.  The hum of Brooklyn’s streets, gave way behind the school’s front door to shouts of glee from young children rushing to their homeroom; crashes from the dining hall as early arrivals finished their snacks and vied with each other for the honor of clearing their dishes the loudest.  Then there was the smell: a combination of industrial paint, disinfectant, chalk dust, fruit cocktail and overcooked green beans.  And of course there was me, smelling of fear and damp, woolen, Nehru jacket.

Most astonishing was the two-story carpeted grand staircase which led past the admissions offices on the mezzanine up to the first level of classrooms on the third floor.  It was a stunning visual introduction to a school I’d barely even heard of a week earlier.   

On this grand staircase, kids of all ages congregated; some to chat or gossip, and others to compare notes prior to attending their classes.  

One kid named Peter proclaimed loudly to anyone listening that he could descend the entire staircase in fewer than six leaps.  After skipping four steps on his first leap, he realized he’d have to skip even more in order to reach his goal.  So his second leap he cleared five steps.  It was his third leap, now trying to clear six steps, that misfortune struck.  Upon landing, his feet came out from under him and he thrumped his way down the entire rest of the staircase on his ass.

Unhurt, he popped up onto his feet, saw that I was looking in fear and admiration at his extraordinary fall, and said sagely, “that was a dumb move.” It was years before it occurred to me he was referring to my Nehru jacket, not his fall. 

St. Ann’s was and still is a truly arts-integrated school.  It didn’t give grades, just comments.  It placed you in classes by ability, not by age.  In this school, I sang my first solo, drew my first nude, wrote my first and only play and starred in it as Spock with a stunning classmate improbably named Davina opposite me as Capt. Kirk, all by the end of my ninth-grade year. 

In this school I discovered that despite my initial fears, a country boy who liked nothing better than digging in manure, fishing with night-crawlers he had gathered himself, and building forts in the woods with his brother, could survive and thrive in an arts-rich, urban environment all while learning the requisite materials in science, math, history, literature, and foreign languages.

I tell this story because the Arts Council has spent a great deal of time this year putting together a strategic plan, and one of the most significant “aha” moments came  last fall when we realized two things:  One, that far from gaining any traction in this post-911, NCLB, STEM-oriented world, the arts were, in fact, facing ongoing, and ever-increasing deficits in our schools; and two, that if we are to “stem” this tide (so to speak), we have to have a radically different vision for Vermonters and their access to the arts going forward.

So this year, our Strategic Plan in addition to calling for a greater emphasis on evaluation of programs and accountability, also calls for a renewed emphasis on arts education—particularly on the pre-K through 12 cohort in which young boys and girls transition into young adults, test societal mores, and make decisions that can profoundly impact their future for better or worse. 

Our vision is for all Vermont students to have access to a thorough, integrated, sequential, learning plan or program that includes instruction in the arts as well as instruction through the arts.  We believe this can only happen when communities demand that their schools turn STEM-only mandates in to “full STEAM ahead”-mandates in which in which the arts and creativity play a central role; in which professional arts instructors, in addition to their teaching duties, help integrate the arts into other areas of the curriculum and supplement this work with local artist- and arts organization-resources. 

Our role is to support schools in this work through showcasing successful models, providing networking and convening opportunities, and collaborating with the Department of Education and the Agency of Human Services to ensure that ALL Vermont students, especially those in difficult or constrained circumstances, have equal access to these vital programs as well as the research that justifies this type of dynamic approach.

Another much longer-term vision and thus much more difficult to develop evaluation metrics for, is for Vermont to develop a reputation for graduating young adults from its secondary and post-secondary schools who are not only well-educated, but whose ideas about the importance of civic engagement and self-awareness are informed by their knowledge of and appreciation for creativity and the arts. 

Statistically, nearly half of all students who graduate from college leave the state their school is located in and settle elsewhere.  We want those students to value their own Vermont education experience so much that either they are compelled to return when they’re ready to start their own business or raise a family, or they do everything in their power to recreate it wherever they happen to live—even if it’s in a place like Westlake, Louisiana.   

Last week Governor Jindal proudly announced that Louisiana has “privatized” its entire public school system.  Now tax payer-funded vouchers are available for parents want to send kids to schools like Eternity Christian Academy in Westlake which teaches a “Creationist perspective of Science” with no mention of the Theory of Evolution because (and I quote its Principal) “we try to stay away from all those things that might confuse our children.”

Art can certainly be confusing. But isn’t that in part the point of knowing something about it?  Unpacking the meaning of a painting, or a poem, or a song—exploring its deeper, universal meaning—isn’t that kind of what life is all about?  Studying the arts is the nearest substitute we have to studying life itself.  In fact, take out the word substitute.  Art is life.  But then, if you’re reading this, there is a good chance you already know it.

About a month ago I paid a visit to the Arts Integrated Academy in Burlington’s North End.  As the door closed behind me and I climbed the stairs to the main floor, I was struck at the overwhelming similarity to my first arrival at St. Ann’s more than 40 years ago.  Even without a Nehru jacket, the sounds, sights and smells were nearly identical.  I could tell instantly that this school is Vermont’s future. 

No, there wasn’t a grand staircase, but there was art on every wall, notices about music, field trips, teaching artist visits and the like.  Most importantly, there was a full class of multi-ethnic, non-English speaking students of all ages working on a group puppet show.  This was their introduction not just to the English language and the American education system but to life in America itself, and I was so so proud of them and of the good people at the Academy and the Flynn whose diligent stewardship has turned this school into such a dynamic learning environment in just three short years.

This school is the antidote to what is happening in places like Louisiana where public policy makers have essentially given over their responsibilities to the next generation completely to the private sector.  It is today what all Vermont schools should be like tomorrow.

Our job—the Arts Council’s  job—is to make it so.