A Season of Giving

A few weeks ago my daughter, out of the blue, said “You know Dad, Vermont is a really great place to grow up. I’m glad we live here.”

I was curious as to what prompted this unsolicited comment from a 16-year-old girl whose current mode of communication is primarily a variety of cold-shoulder shrugs and eye-rolls. “I mean,” she went on, “I’m fully expecting to leave the state for college and probably for a while after that, but I can’t imagine a better place to have been raised.”  

Her three older brothers are all in the process of applying to college. It has been a roller-coaster ride of standardized testing, last-minute forays onto the “common app,” frightening conversations with financial aid professionals, and anguished pleadings with teachers. My daughter has quietly watched these proceedings with little or no comment. But I can tell it has given her a real-world perspective on what lies ahead for her when it’s her turn to leap into the vast, unknown arena called college.

I have the joy of doing a lot of travelling around the state, and while I am most familiar with Montpelier and the surrounding Central Vermont area, I can attest that there are many communities all over Vermont that share the same qualities and characteristics that have embraced my family—particularly my children.

Anyone reading this blog can imagine for him or herself what makes Vermont a special place. It’s probably the combination of ready access to the great outdoors, the opportunity to discover where your healthy food actually comes from, the joy of encountering creative people from all walks of life on a daily basis, and boasting rights for “hosting” Ben & Jerry’s as well as Heady Topper. The list is endless.

For me it comes down to what matters for the children. Not just MY children. All children.

And here’s the rub…even in Vermont, with all its beauty and access to wealth and food, an extraordinary number of children are going to bed hungry, waking up hungry, and wearing triple hand-me-downs that no longer keep out the cold. They are unable to keep up with their homework, unable to stay late at school for band or chorus or soccer practice because their parents have no way to get them home except by the bus that leaves at 3 pm.

I had the privilege of participating in the Governor’s Early Childhood Summit in mid-October. It was eye-opening. Depending on the issue, anywhere from 20% to 40% of Vermont schoolchildren are suffering from the lack of SOMETHING—food, transportation, parents with parenting skills, after-school activities, counseling, creative play, joy, inspiration. Art.

At one point during the Summit, the 200 attendees broke up into groups. We were asked to share who we are and what we bring to the summit. Listening to the 30 or so people in my group describe their jobs (teacher, counselor, health-care provider, truant officer, program administrator) and what they need in order to provide a barely adequate amount of service to kids in real need, I realized how truly blessed my family is.

When it came to my turn, all I could do was quote Antoine Saint-Exupery. “If you want to build a ship, don’t drum up people together to collect wood and don’t assign them tasks and work, but rather teach them to long for the endless immensity of the sea.”  I suggested that the arts field is always available to help people explore their dreams and aspirations. It is not enough simply to provide a prescription or sessions with a counselor or a probation officer. We have to find a way to inject a sense of wonder, excitement, and curiosity in our young people. If we fail at that, they will never learn, never discover themselves, never live up to their innate potential.

My children are lucky. They have grown up in a community that offers the Adamant Quarry Works theater in which they performed as 9- and 10-year olds (friends performed with Lost Nation Theater, let’s not forget them!). They also had the privilege and luck to grow up in a community that valued chorus and band as much as soccer and field hockey; where the fall musical is as well-attended as the boys’ basketball playoff; and where the community cinches its collective belt a little tighter each year to make sure that the school budget -- the annual investment we make in our kids -- gets passed at Town Meeting Day. But each year the vote is closer, the money tighter, the number in need slightly larger, the news more sobering.

Somehow we have to refocus our attention away from systems that only reward individual achievement and towards activities and people that serve the public good. Vermont’s non-profit sector embraces education, medicine, social services, the arts, and much, much more. As a whole it is THIS sector that makes Vermont truly stand apart from other states.

I submit it is Vermont’s nonprofits—all of them—working diligently, collaboratively, and effectively to improve everyone’s quality of life that makes my daughter want to live here. In the context of its nonprofit sector it actually is possible to imagine a Vermont in which no child is left behind.

In the spirit of the season, then, I encourage you to be generous with your tax-deductible contributions. Together, we can continue to move Vermont forward; investing in our kids and in our future.

Happy Holidays! 

Vermont: The State of the Arts (2013)

In the fall of 1980 while traveling on a Eurail Pass in Germany, I ran into a fellow traveler from Poland named Josef.

We were at a Biergarten in Cologne and despite his lack of English and my lack of Polish, we quickly discovered that two or three liters of Germany’s finest greatly facilitates any conversation.  It wasn’t long before I learned Josef was in the process of completing his doctorate in political science at a “Uniwersity” in Poland, and as the evening wore on, he shared with me, quite vigorously, his views on the future.

“Computer is key.  With computer I speak Harward. I speak Berkeley. I speak Moscow. I speak Beijing.  Uniwersity professors everywhere speak computer.  Have access to same informations.  Without informations we are like dinosaur.  Strong in what we know, wulnerable in what we don’t.  Informations is key.  Informations change world.  You watch.”

Well surprise, surprise…within 10 years a Polish Pope had supported a Polish union leader in helping to facilitate the downfall of the Soviet Union. I always wondered about who, exactly, Josef was and what he did for a living...

The longer I live, the more I realize how essentially correct Josef was in his broken English.  Information is key.  Information does change the world.

I work in a field, however, that often frustrates those seeking information.  It’s not that the arts aren’t studied, and it’s not that the arts don’t have a measurable value.  And it certainly isn’t that artists and those that support artists don’t have the same level of passion that my friend Josef did.

But, for those of us in the arts, the challenge is discerning which information matters and which does not. 

Even today, after nearly 50 years of the National Endowment for the Arts and the cumulative investment of billions of dollars, society still argues about the value of public funding for the arts.

I’ve gotten fairly good at making this argument over the years.  The difficulty I have, however, is with grant-making organizations like large foundations and even the National Endowment for the Arts whose applications invariably ask questions like How do you evaluate your programs and services? How do you know if they are successful or not? What specific things do you measure that serve as indicators for success?

The smug answer is “The public value of supporting the arts is self-evident.  Humans have supported art-making of all types since long before the Paleolithic Republic of Gaul gave its first Art in State Cave grant to a spectacular cave artist named Pablo P’Lascaux some 17,000 years ago.”

This “art for arts’ sake” response works for arts supporters, but tends to isolate them from everyone else.  The truth is, there really are things that we should do, and that we should do well because the bulk of the money we spend comes from tax-payers all over the country!

So as my old friend Josef might ask, “what informations do you have?” Well, that’s a simple question with a somewhat complicated answer.

Our five-year Strategic Plan is pretty clear on two things.  One is a focus on arts education and the other is a focus on marketing and promotion.  One is in deep trouble and the other offers us the best opportunity and most engaged allies at the state and local level in years.  But to do both, we need resources, a plan and clear outcomes that can be used to see how well we do.

Let me start with the resource question first.  According to our plan, we gave ourselves two years to develop and successfully make the case for matching National Endowment for the Arts Funding 1:1.  As I hope all of you know by now, we beat that benchmark by a full year. Thanks to you and hundreds of advocates from all over the state, the Governor and legislature approved a 26% increase.  This increase means that for the first time in our history we do not have to use our own grantee’s funds as match. 

This is good news for several reasons.  We can now begin to unpack the many issues surrounding the delivery of a meaningful, sequential, and integrated program of arts education in our schools even as we start a new collaboration with the Agency of Education to develop an operating plan that balances student and school needs against the state’s (and our) capacity.

We can also help our partners at the Agency of Commerce to infuse their marketing and promotion efforts with much more timely information about the arts and culture.  Remember, as Josef said 33 years ago, “Informations change world.”  At the very least, we hope better informations about the arts will change Vermont by bringing an ever-greater number of cultural tourists to explore our treasures.

But what will we measure? Where arts education is concerned, our biggest challenge is finding out what data is currently collected.  Our primary strategic objective is to support educational activities particularly in the pre-K through 12 cohort that have arts-enriched/arts-integrated curricula and programming.  Why? Because we want Vermont to be known for turning out civic-minded citizens who recognize and appreciate the arts not only for their intrinsic value, but for the value they offer to communities.  We further assert that learning in the arts is a critical path to success for all students.  So what will we measure and how?

We are giving ourselves until the end of this calendar year to fully answer this question.  I will say, however that the 2 to 5-year Outcomes that we articulated in our Plan are already starting to happen.  We have identified key partners and are actively working with the State Board of Education’s Education Quality Standards Committee to ensure that the arts are an integral part of how Vermont defines a “college-ready” high school graduate. Furthermore, we are working very closely with the consortium of local agencies in Burlington to develop and refine a significant body of knowledge about arts integrated curricula using the Integrated Arts Academy (formerly known as the H. O. Wheeler School) as a model for best practices.

As for what we will measure in the area of marketing and promotion, it’s important to understand first what our strategic objective is.  We support communities that collaboratively engage the arts sector in their promotional efforts about their local economic vitality and vibrancy because the arts are not only a valued tourism draw, but they also serve as a significant attractor for new business development. We will measure increases in the quality and number of materials that the state uses to market and promote Vermont through the arts (most of which we hope to provide), but we will also look at and report out on the significant amount of data collected through the Pew Trust’s Cultural Data Project.

The CDP, as it is called, is an information-gathering protocol that is designed to do what the IRS Form 990 could only dream of doing:  provide consistent, comparable data across the range of nonprofit arts organizations on things like employment, solvency, in-state and out-of-state attendance, management efficiency, trends, and comparison analysis.  We expect our first report on this to drop sometime early this fall.  And so far we are pleased that more than 100 organizations are participating, of which nearly 60 so far have submitted at least two-years’ worth of key operating and financial data.

And what of the outcomes?  We have given ourselves two years to figure out how to work with a variety of state departments, most of which are in the Agency of Commerce and Community development.  A draft Memorandum of Understanding is already circulating that outlines how we hope to become better engaged in promoting Vermont’s cultural assets.

But there is one more important point I want to make.

Sometimes the most important things we do don’t appear in a strategic plan or a Memorandum of Understanding.

No one expected that a series of quiet conversations in 1997 between the then-new Tourism Commissioner and the equally new Arts Council Director would result in a robust Cultural Heritage Tourism Toolkit that remains as relevant today as it was when it was published in 2001.

No one knew in 1999 that a single session at a day-long arts conference would result in something as huge and dynamic as the soon-to-be-completed (finally!) Danville Project.

Our 2001 plan did not include a line directing us to have lunch with Warren Kimble in 2005 and ask him to come up with the Palettes of Vermont.

But all those things happened, and I like to believe they happened because we, the Council and the arts sector in general, are flexible, responsive, and imaginative—and not rigidly tied to a strategic plan.  So I have to ask:

What are we doing today so that in another 15 years the Arts Council’s Executive Director can look back and report on some unexpected outcome that we didn’t identify today because we couldn’t describe what success might look like, much less explain its outcomes and outputs? Where is the next generation of Cultural Tourism, or Danville, or Palettes projects going to come from? How will we know whether and how much to support them? How will we improve our odds of success?

I believe that at its core, the value of the Arts Council is not just in what it can measure, but in what it does to position itself to take advantage of opportunities that are at present unknown.  More importantly, the value of the Council is really more about the quality of the work done by the artists, arts organizations, and arts educators we serve.  In that context, and to stay relevant over time, I believe we need to search outside of our comfort zones.

When asked what the Council does, most people respond that it gives money to artists, arts organizations, and arts educators.  Giving away money is what we have always done, and (in all likelihood) will be what we continue to do in the future.  But this work, while time-consuming, is not hard.  It does not stretch us to look beyond our comfort zone.  Here are some things that surely will:

·       Preparing Vermont to become known as the most accessible arts state—the most welcoming to people with disabilities—in the country

·       Embracing new Americans (especially people of color) and help them to assimilate on their terms to their new home here in Vermont

·       Helping people and institutions physically and psychologically prepare themselves for an increasingly warmer climate with increasingly violent weather

To address these, and many other, issues, the only thing I can think to do is to set a large table and welcome to it a broad array of state, state-wide, local and community partners from all fields with a stake in these and other issues.  Our combined wisdom and knowledge will surely steer us towards solutions tomorrow that none of us on our own could possibly imagine today.  It’s messy, non-linear, and somewhat contradictory to Josef’s “information-will-fix-it” world-view.  But that’s the way the arts roll sometimes.

For now, those of you who are interested in the health of your state arts council, rest assured: we are of sound fiscal mind and body, expected to finish out the current year with a very small surplus all due in no small part to the stellar group of people who respond to your calls day in, day out all year long—the amazing staff of the Vermont Arts Council.  Thank you.

Transformation

(inspired by Martin Niemöller)

First they came for the teaching artists because they weren’t employees and their “value added” couldn’t be measured. And I wasn’t a teaching artist, so I said nothing.

Then they came for the music teachers because band and string instruments were expensive to buy and maintain. And I wasn’t a music teacher so again, I said nothing.

Then they came for the dance teachers because, they reasoned, the Physical Education teachers could get the students to move just as easily. And not being a dance teacher, I again said nothing.

Then they came for the art teachers because even though the cost of supplies was small, student “outcomes” were too difficult to measure.  And not being an art teacher, I remained silent and said nothing.

Then they came for the choral teachers and theater directors because those critical after school hours spent rehearsing and preparing for shows and concerts was considered better spent studying so-called “real” subjects.  And I wasn’t a choral teacher or a theater director, and so said nothing.

Then they came for the sports teams like football and hockey, whose equipment and injury costs were high. And though I and others around me began to get nervous, still we remained silent.

Then they came for all the remaining extracurricular activities: all sports activities, clubs, yearbooks, proms, and other student-centered committees because it was all so expensive.  At that point, there was nothing we could really say.

Finally they came for the school itself: the buildings, the buses, the desks and chairs, the kitchen equipment.  And left us with nothing.

They left us with nothing, that is, except an open field and a couple of hundred isolated teenagers each stoically studying the STEM curriculum (science, technology, engineering, and math)…

And then one day we looked over at the young children who weren’t quite school-aged.

And the children were singing.  And dancing.  And clapping. And drawing with sticks in the dirt. And playing tag and keep-away.  And their lives were full of joy and excitement and an obvious eagerness to learn.

And we were no longer silent.

The Vermont Arts Council urges you to support your local school budgets and to voice a vigorous objection to any attempts to cut music, art, dance, theater, or film programs. 

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.

Make an Introduction

When I was a child my parents made sure that I was exposed to the arts.  Each summer we would pile into the car for the 2.5 hour drive to Stratford, CT for the Shakespeare Festival; in the winter we would pile into the car for the 2.5 hour drive to New York for the Nutcracker or the Messiah.  In between times there were the occasional performers who would come to our part of upstate New York (courtesy of the local arts council) and we’d go to the High School gymnasium or auditorium to see symphonies, theater, and even the occasional “modern” dance company.

The entire time this was going on, I would think to myself—just once, I wish they’d take me to see the Beatles or Led Zeppelin in concert.  In my frame of reference the release of “Rubber Soul” meant far more than attending yet another weird (!) dance program by some group called Ailey or Bejart.

It wasn’t all bad…

I did get to meet Judith Jamison once.  I was about eight, and I brought one of my pet gerbils with me to a post-performance reception, of which my mother was a host.  I allowed it to crawl up my arm while shaking hands with some of the dancers.  It magically appeared out from under my collar just as I got to Ms. Jamison.  Oh how I wish I could report out about the whooping and hollering that should have followed…

But, no, she calmly put her plate down on a side table, leaned in close to look at it, and said, “that is an adorable gerbil! May I pet it?”

I still recall her perfume.

Several years later, after moving to New York and attending Friday afternoon concerts at Alice Tully Hall thanks to my grandmother, I was shipped off to school.  With my growing collection of records by Led Zeppelin, the Beatles, and many others I was lucky enough to be assigned a roommate with a portable stereo.

In 11^th grade I finally “discovered” Beethoven, an event so profound I think I still haven’t quite recovered--and it’s been almost 40 years.  Just last weekend I found myself listening again to the Waldstein and Appassionata sonatas several times in succession.  My kids thought I was taking a nap on the living room sofa. No…I was simply transfixed for the umpteenth time by the depth and passion of these great works, performed by Emil Gilels.

Ask yourself, as an intellectual exercise, what art will survive the test of time?  In 250 years, what will our descendants listen to on a Sunday afternoon?  Will it still be Beethoven, Bach, and Brahms? The truth is, it doesn’t really matter.

I believe that people come to the arts in their own way and in their own time.  Most kids take art and music in school (at least they are supposed to!), they attend local productions of theater and musicals, or chorus and band, sometimes for no other reason than to support their classmates.  A few get special recognition for a painting they have painted or a pot they have thrown.  But most only know the popular art forms and for them, that’s where we have to start.  I started with the Beatles and Led Zeppelin.  But my parents never gave up on me.

It begins with exposure, and for the lucky ones with talent, it can quickly become a creative passion if nurtured.  For most, exposure ultimately leads to appreciation and understanding.  People usually fear and mistrust things they don’t understand.  Some kids at first don’t trust art, music, dance, and theater.  But if they see their friends and peers engaged in them and enjoying themselves, then soon their attitude changes.  The arts always become less strange over time, and I’m never surprised when even the most cynical among us come to appreciate it and support it—even though it may still be, at some basic level, beyond their understanding.

The bottom line is that every one of us deserves an introduction to the arts.  For most, that introduction happens in elementary school and is reinforced every year in a sequential program of applied learning in the arts.  But now that introduction is at risk.  Our state education agency no longer has a curriculum specialists devoted to the arts.  Most schools have only “portions” of art and music teachers working with kids for less than an hour each week.

The Vermont Alliance of Arts Educators recently shut its doors for good—not out of want of trying, but out of lack of support for its mission.  In truth, looking at the current state of arts education in Vermont, we have reason to be concerned.

So what do we do?  To start with, we need to go back to basics.  We need to start in our own families, making sure that we parents introduce our kids to art and culture as often as we can. We need to support our schools' and communities' art programs, which often only mean just showing up.  We need to insist that our school budgets have sufficient resources for at least an art and a music teacher.  We need to insist that our children learn how to attend shows (both visual and performing) with respect and appreciation—even if, as they will surely tell you, they didn’t like the art itself. 

It starts at home.  It reignites in school.  And once a child has had his or her introduction—and really begun to understand that art is about something more profound than appealing to their immediate “popular” likes and dislikes—then we can let them go explore on their own.  Our job as a parent and teacher is done.

Who knows? Maybe in 250 years a work created by a kid I introduced to the arts as a child will be part of the standard repertoire. 

Right up there with Stairway to Heaven.

Vermont: The State of the Arts, 2012

[This post first appeared in the Burlington (VT) Free Press, January 1, 2012]

 I am frequently asked, what is the current state of the arts?  My response? 

Vermont.

Vermont is the State of the Arts.

2010 Census figures are not available, but based on 2000 data, Vermont is first in writers, seventh in visual artists, and fifth overall in the per-capita ratio of artists-to-citizens out of all 50 states.  I believe, however, that visual artists are extremely under-reported in Vermont, and that once the 2010 data is out we will find ourselves ranked first overall. 

From communities as diverse as Brattleboro, White River Junction, Island Pond, Rutland, Bennington, and the greater Burlington area, Vermont’s artists leave an indelible impression on citizens and visitors alike.  We are a creative state whose character is hewn as much from the keyboard and the brush as it is from the soil and the forest.  For most Vermont artists, the natural landscape informs their creative core (corps?).  For others, Vermont’s independent streak inspires provocation and even outrage, as certainly art should from time to time. The critical note, here, is that of all states I have heard about, Vermont artists describe themselves exactly this way:  “I’m a Vermont artist”—using Vermont as an adjective to encompass the depth and variety that very name conjures in the imagination. No other artist from any other state does this, to my knowledge…at least not with the same degree of commitment.

Arts institutions in Vermont—the “healthy” ones—are nimble, have strong community support, and make the most of digital media and social networking tools to reach out well beyond our border.  Virtually all who regularly apply to the Council for funding fulfill the “artistic excellence” requirement with ease. Grants, therefore, tend to be awarded based organizational capacity and the value and impact that their activities have in/on their communities, not on the past record of accomplishment; a subtle but important difference.  If nothing else, it indicates a sector that is fully mature, with very high standards, and aware of its important role in bringing quality programs and services to the public.

From the consumer’s perspective, therefore, the arts in Vermont are thriving.  There are many arts events to choose from, not just on the weekends, but on any day of the week.  And with very few exceptions, they are all of really high caliber. A glance through any community newspaper will prove the point.

The view is very different, however, from the creative/producing end.

Whether the root cause is the economy, donor fatigue from massive weather cataclysms, or the increasingly vocal, but very ill-informed, national movement to remove all so-called “nonessential government services,” the issue for all is survival.  The Kennedy Center’s Michael Kaiser believes that the key to survival lies in the diversity and excellence of programming coupled with an ever-expanding commitment to marketing and promotion.

Therein lies the rub. Arts organizations are mission driven.  If there is an extra dollar left over at the end of the year, the mission mandates that it be spent on programming.  The result is that Kaiser’s advice to focus on diverse, excellent, new programming with an emphasis on marketing is difficult to sell to trustees and audiences.

What the sector really needs are tools for analyzing the impacts of artistic activity on education, community economic development, and social services.  With the Pew Trust’s Cultural Data Project just getting started here in Vermont, and the new fields of “Social Impact Analysis” and “Brain-based Learning” coming into their own, we will soon provide policy analysts and state/local officials with much better information about why they should be advocating for significantly more resources to be spent on supporting and promoting the sector. 

Artists and arts organizations are generally pretty capable at corralling what they need to put on a show.  What they are less good at is reaching audiences in Boston, New York, Montreal, Albany, and the Berkshires (!) to let them know what is available less than a half-day’s drive away.  This is where the state’s interests and the arts sector’s interests are currently most in alignment and where immediate returns are already beginning to be found. (There are many others, but this is the lowest of the “low-hanging fruits.”)

Vermont’s arts sector is, from an economic policy perspective, one of its last great un(der)-tapped resources.  With the right kind of collaborative, strategic and socially-integrated investment, the arts sector could easily thrive and become integral to Vermont’s economic vitality, not just a pleasant, icing-on-the-cake afterthought.

Feeling Glee-ful

“…'Glee' is about the importance of arts education, so I would like to dedicate this to all my teachers who taught me to sing and finger-paint." --Ryan Murphy, “Glee” co-creator upon receiving a 2010 Emmy Award for Best Director of a Comedy

It will be National Arts in Education Week very soon. As one of the three “legs of the stool” on which our mission, vision, and goals rest, arts education figures quite prominently in the work we do at the Council. Like almost everyone I know, I am constantly impressed and amazed at the dedication and skill of the art, music, dance, and theater teachers at our schools. Although most have support networks (VATA, VMEA, and the VAAE), few believe their job is ever truly secure. Budget cuts tend to first focus on the arts and almost never on math, science, or physical education (hint to dance teachers…if you’re not already doing so, get your dance classes classified as Physical Education. You will sleep better at night!)

Into this mix comes the Arts Council with its particular focus on the teaching artist: the professional artist who either has or wants to become proficient at handling the various rules and regulations that are required for “serving it up” in a classroom setting.

We believe in the transcendent (or transformational) power of the arts to heal or empower or inspire students to achieve—not just in the arts but in life. We are convinced that creating art and bearing witness to art created/performed by others is among the most important things a young person experiences. And anyone who has gone through the agony/ecstasy of a recital, an opening night, a showcase, or any other public display where one’s “art” is featured, can tell you of the profound life lessons such events provide. Although occasionally these experiences are miserable and even destructive, for the most part, kids who survive tend to thrive, though not always as artists.

In a recent post I excoriated our Vermont education system for pretending it will succeed in the face of 20% cuts to personnel, eliminating specialists in the arts, sports, etc. In today’s post I want to draw attention to some of the positive things that are happening in Vermont's schools and arts-training programs--some of which are as professional and entertaining as anything you might see on television.

The New England Consortium of Artist-Educator Professionals (NECAP) will hold its annual conference in Brattleboro, VT on Thursday, September 23rd. Featuring world-renowned “new vaudevillian” artist Michael Moschen, the day is packed with workshops, lectures, and demonstrations. It is a great opportunity for teaching artists in all disciplines to network and share their varied experiences across New England.

The Arts Council has launched its new “Cultural Routes” initiative—a rapid-response grant program to help offset transportation costs related to delivering school children to performances at cultural institutions. These performances are frequently cited as the only professional performing arts experiences a child will have during the year. Helping schools in this cash-strapped economy will, we hope, keep this vital opportunity available to a broad cross-section of Vermonters.

More and more, our local arts presenters are taking leadership roles in delivering high quality arts-education experiences to their communities. Leading the way in Vermont is the Flynn Center for the Performing Arts whose programs and services include student matinees, camps, workshops, student passes, study guides, and curricula. But there are many others (and forgive me for presenting an incomplete list) such as Burlington City Arts (also in Burlington), River Arts (Morrisville), Catamount Arts (St. Johnsbury), Studio Place Arts (Barre), Chandler Center (Randolph), Weston Playhouse (Weston), Vermont Arts Exchange (No. Bennington), and Brattleboro Museum and Arts Center (Brattleboro), throughout the length and breadth of our small state that year after year deliver the goods.

There are the compelling programs for high school age artists of all types from the year-long Vermont Youth Orchestra and New England Youth Theatre in Colchester and Brattleboro, respectively, to more focused and discipline-specific projects like Vermont Stage Company’s Young Playwrights Project, to the well-known, two-week long “retreat” at Castleton State College known as the Governor’s Institute in the Arts. These programs focus much more on the budding creative artist and help prepare them for post-secondary and professional success as artists.

And finally, I would be remiss in not drawing special attention to G.R.A.C.E. in Hardwick—a program founded in 1975 to provide lifelong learning opportunities to elders and underserved populations throughout Vermont, and to showcase the best “outsider” art Vermont has to offer.

These institutions and many others [feel free to send me links to others I haven’t mentioned!] do so much to educate and enlighten all of us. They are the vanguard of the new arts education movement. And they all deserve our support.

Sometime in the next 20 years there will surely be another talented artist or producer or director who will pause while receiving her Emmy, Grammy, or Oscar and say “You know, the only reason I am here tonight is…I’m from Vermont.”

Are We Insane Yet?

A few days ago, I found myself reading a recent memo from Vermont School Commissioner Armando Vilaseca. Its content was alarming.

The memo starts out with an upbeat tone, informing the reader of the Department's new mandates and goals (called "Transformation Goals") which position "the department to increase support for schools in ultimately improving outcomes for all Vermont learners. The structure we have defined is intentionally focused on mobilizing all of our staff to support schools in improving instruction and learning outcomes for all students."

Okay so far.

But then the memo gets to the real issues facing the education establishment: massive budget cutbacks, lay-offs and retirements resulting in a 20% workforce reduction, and--here's the kicker--yet another reorganization of staff around "new learning goals."

Really?!

Gone are content specialists in social studies, foreign languages, art and music, gifted and talented programs, and physical education. Those people not let go who held positions in those areas have been reassigned to something called an "Integrated Support for Learning" team. The remaining content specialists in the fields of special education, math, English language arts, English Language Learners and science will stay put as they are "part of the statewide assessment system."

This sounds to me like we are paying more and more attention to "teaching to the test" than ever. Are we surprised, therefore, that student learning is at risk? Are we surprised that more and more parents continue to question the value and efficiency of our once-vaunted school system?

None of this is the fault of one person--especially not of Commissioner Vilaseca. He's been given an impossible job to do ("Fix Our Schools") and he's doing the best he can. But this memo reminds me of my favorite Einstein quote: The definition of insanity is doing the same thing over and over and expecting a different result.

Surely, by now, we are all insane. How many more times are we going to refine, reduce, reassign, re-strategize, re-formulate, re-eliminate, re-focus, and re-incentivize (using made-up words is fun because nobody can refudiate them irregardless of how they are misinterpretated) our education system before we finally come to the inescapable conclusion that this is NOT the way to "improve outcomes for all Vermont learners?"

Surely, if this method worked at all, it would have worked by now...?! (And I'll stop calling you Shirley if you agree with me :)

So what CAN be done?

Let's start with this question: What do we want our children to learn and why?

This is an important question for policy-makers to return to often, because the answer changes over time. For me, at this moment in history, there are global issues to consider all of which impact the outcome of student learning (not to mention the human condition) in profound ways. Global Warming, Renewable Energy, Religion, Population, Food and Water Management are five that immediately come to my mind. But I'm not suggesting that we run out and create curricula around these issues for first-graders.

What we must do is develop curricula that will serve as a foundation for first-graders to lean on when, as young adults, they begin to focus on solving these thorny and sophisticated problems. For example, wouldn't it make sense to start teaching a second language to preschoolers and NOT wait until they are in the 7th grade (as is the current practice in the Montpelier school system)?

Everyone who has ever had a child (or read the research literature) knows that it is during these formative years that our "language centers" are at their most receptive. Regardless of what captures the imagination of a young learner enough to cause him/her to dedicate a career to it as an adult, being able to converse with colleagues from Spain, Egypt, China and Russia who are working on the same issue(s) will certainly be advantageous.

Science and math are important, no doubt. So here's another idea: why don't we go crazy and hire some Hispanic, Arabic, Chinese, or Russian teachers to teach those subjects in their native language once our kids have enough basic linguistic knowledge under their belts? I say kill two birds with one stone: learn the language AND learn geometry! I know it can be done because I know people from Spain, Egypt, China, and Russia, and every one of them learned geometry, and lots more besides.

So right now, what do I think the goal of education should be? Simple. To help every child discover for him or herself the joy of lifelong learning.

What feeds this desire?

The ability to speak more than one language
The ability to carry on a discussion about religion with a person from another faith without resorting to epithets or physical violence.
The ability to do sums in more than one currency.
The ability to weep at the end of Madama Butterfly.
The ability to weep tears of outrage about the lost boys of Sudan.
The ability to dance with a parent more often than at your own wedding.
The ability to return to William Faulkner novels again and again...and again.
The ability to read aloud to your child.
The ability to cheer your child's role as a triceratops in his class play about dinosaurs.
The ability to explain why you're supposed to stand when the National Anthem is played.
The ability to explain why you're supposed to stand when Handel's Hallelujah Chorus is played.

Our world is very small. Understanding how to navigate its complexity starts with language and culture. We need to teach a basic appreciation for all culture, starting with our own. This includes not just social studies, but the arts, music, poetry, dance, and drama that constitute our collective human expression. From this common understanding we can nurture our expertise in the sciences, in mathematics, in the constant quest for human knowledge. This is how to instill in our young learners a hunger for learning. This is what we must demand of our schools, of our teachers, and of ourselves.

To do otherwise is insanity.