Teaching: A Continuum of Aesthetic Moments

Background
In the DFAT Program, each Fulbright teacher is attached to a school in either Prince George or Montgomery County. We have been scheduled to visit our respective attached schools once a week. School attachment is one of the highlight for the international teachers. A teacher may pursue graduate degrees in the US as an international student and be immersed in the US academia but may never get to experience what public school life is about. This is the precious opportunity we get to be in a school of a totally different system and culture. But the once-weekly visit has its challenges. While the local school teachers get to see their students on almost a daily basis, it is difficult to get such sense of continuity for the Fulbright teachers.

I decided I needed more first hand experience working with the Art Department staff and students at Springbrook High. So I opted to forgo a class on Mondays just so that I could go to Springbrook High School one more day in the week.

My First Aesthetic Moment in a US High School
An unexpected provision of opportunity
Just this Monday, I arrived in Springbrook High with the goal of arranging for a more structured involvement with the classes for my visits, and I chanced upon a drawing class where the teacher had to leave early as she was unwell. There was a substitute teacher but she is not trained in art so all she could do was to give the instructions and take attendance.

I jumped at the chance and volunteered to teach the students. I reckoned that since my undergraduate training is in Drawing and Printmaking, I would have little problem handling the technical aspect of the teaching. The task was a still life study of a skeleton model placed on a chair with a few smaller skeleton models leaning on the legs of the chairs at various angles. The students need not draw the whole subject matter and could choose to focus on a part. Nonetheless, I was acutely aware that I have been brought up and trained in Singapore and this is a totally different system, where students have been nurtured under vastly different teaching approaches. So after I had given out the materials prepared by the teacher who went on medical, I walked around just to get a sense of the class dynamics.

A familiar comment revisited in a new context
After about ten minutes, a group of male students were still joking amongst themselves while others have already started work. They were not loud but obviously had no intention to do the work at hand, with one of them sitting with his back facing the subject matter. I would call him Peter* in this post for easy reference. Peter was the main protagonist of the group so I approached him and explained to him that the task would require him to observe and draw, thus he should move to another corner of the table where he could see. Twice he refused and insisted he could still see by just turning around with his drawing board on an upturned recycle bin. The bin was simply not an apt surface to work on but I instantly knew this could spiral into a power play if I insisted, which was not what I intended, so I let him be so long as he was looking at the subject. Then he said: "I can't draw."

'I can't draw' are three words that I have heard many times from my students in Singapore. In that instance, it might have been said by one with a different accent, of a different ethnic group, one brought up watching American football rather than soccer. But the essence is the same - A resistance to objective drawing with the belief that such ability is only bestowed on a select few deemed as talented.

My reply was simple: "Who says you can't draw. Everyone can draw, it is just a matter of style."
I had no doubt that my reply did not suffice to convince this young lad so I asked him to choose a portion he would want to draw, which happened to be the skull, and I did a quick teaching on methods of observation. I first gave an overall estimation of the proportion, comparing the length of the skull to its width. Then I used a simple geometric angle analysis, pointing out to him the exact point when the vertebrate at the neck tilted away from the vertical axis. I told him just give the method a try.

The aesthetic moment
I went around helping other students while repeatedly keeping an eye on Peter just to see if he was trying. I returned to him and looked at his attempt. I was pleasantly surprised that despite having little drawing experience, he was able to capture the overall proportion, albeit with some distortions. More significantly, his drawing showed that he understood the two-part formation of the skull, that is the upper jaw is not fused with the lower jaw but connected with a joint. I commented that he has captured an important feature of the skull, the feature that allows us to eat and talk. Then before I walked off I said "So you see, you can draw!"

He turned and look at me and said "Thanks, that meant a lot to me."

I had never expected his response but kept my composure and smiled. Then I jokingly told one of Peter's talking buddies that there is something to learn from Peter as he did a better job because he looked carefully. The tease drew some sheepish giggles from the rest of the group and it was intentional, as a further encouragement to the one who earlier said "I can't draw."  

I walked away, but the boy's appreciative words rang in my ears. They were beautiful words. I believe that aesthetic moment was mutual - for him to hear that he can draw, and for me to know that my words were important to him.

A Second Unexpected Aesthetic Moment - All In A Morning
Easing a student's reluctance to take fresh challenge
I went to another class to co-teach a digital art lesson. This was a more senior class and they have had lessons on Corel Paint and Photoshop. The teacher has recently introduced Adobe Illustrator and the students have experienced some unease, which is common for beginners learning to use vector graphic software, and that unease is compounded with the need to quickly switch from using the bitmap platform of Photoshop just a week earlier.

I walked around and noticed a boy staring at a blank Illustrator file,  seemingly clueless as to what to do (I would name him Sam* here). I went to him and asked if he wanted to draw something in Illustrator. He did want to create something but was not sure what to do. And he uttered "I like Photoshop more".
"Me too!" I concurred but only in my head. I instantly recalled the many sleepless weekends I spent teaching myself the software many years ago, just to keep myself one step ahead of my IT-savvy students who could learn such things at lightning speed.

Sam said he wanted to draw a clock, and he was holding a Wacom sensor pen with much hesitation. From experience I knew it is much easier to sketch with a digital sensor pen on a bitmap platform instead of a vector one. And to draw an image as symmetrical as a clock with the hand using Illustrator Software is even more difficult. I decided to show him how to use Shape Tools to create circles and how to quickly create guides to subdivide the clock face in even spacing for twelve numerals. Such tools would be much faster than drawing with a Pen Tool in Illustrator, creating many anchor points that would need much editing later.

As I showed him, he kept saying "Cool! This is cool!", with a broad smile. My quick demonstration allowed him to realise that he could be a part of this collective endeavour into a new territory in digital art, and he did not have to be left behind.

At the end of the class, Sam came to me, shook my hands and thanked me. Sam's smile warmed my heart.

*Peter and Sam are not the real names of the students.

Sam with his clock image in Illustrator (picture taken with the teacher and Sam's permission)

Identification With the Collective Learning Process is a Prerequisite to Learner's Engagement
Wenger (1998) wrote about how identity/membership in a community of practice is not automatic by sheer physical inclusion. Apply that to a classroom, a student may be sitting in the same lesson but have never felt being part of the collective learning experience as he/she is mentally and emotionally sitting on or outside the periphery of the community border, whether by choice or by situational obstacles. Wenger discussed how each member could negotiate his/her identity within the community and such actions are termed as 'brokering'. My take on Wenger's discussion on brokering is that the teacher does play the pivotal role of the broker. Indeed such brokering can only be effective if it is concurrently practiced by both the learner and the teacher. But the teacher either must take the lead or have the acumen to detect when a student may be ready to broker his/her identity in the learning community. In Peter's case, his open comment that he cannot draw in itself is a window and invitation for brokering by the teacher. In Sam's case, his silent awkwardness is a signal that he yearns to broker his identity and his place in digital art class.


A Reminder Ringing Loud
A question for myself
I have realised that on Monday, in both of the classes, I have consciously approached the students and attempted to broker their identity as learners in the lesson, with the aim to have them participate. The fact is I chose to initiate the brokering. Back in Singapore, I have come across many 'Peters' and 'Sams' in my years of teaching. I tried to recall how I had responded to their resistance and reluctance. I asked myself if I had simply ignored them. I know I have seized many such opportunities but have also let others slipped past me.

I knew I was extra sensitive in my observations in Springbrook High, simply because I am conscious I was in a different context. Would I have maintained that heightened awareness and sensitivity if I was back in my familiar classroom environment in Singapore? This is a good moment to critically reflect and remind myself that it is a choice, my choice.

Teaching is a continuum of aesthetic moments, and we can choose to seize such moments more.

Till next time..........