taking down the yellow police tape: controversial content in p-12 classrooms

dennis fehr, mary cain fehr, and alice pennisi  

originally published in semiotics and visual culture: sights, signs, and significance  
deb smith-shank, ed. 
naea press, reston  va  2004

This article describes a graduate course that offered several nontraditional approaches to teaching P-12 art from a social theory position. Dennis Fehr, the professor of the course, and Mary Cain Fehr wrote the text that is in normal type. We refer to ourselves as “we” when describing activities we did together, and as "Mary" or "Dennis" when referring to activities we did individually. Alice Pennisi, one of the students, kept a journal of the course. Her excerpts are in bold.

June 30
I’m in Texas, it’s summer and it’s cold & rainy. Isn’t this place supposed to be dry and wicked hot? Everyone wants to know why I came all this way from New York. I wanted to take an art education course focusing on social theory, and examine how it was taught. But I think I’ll learn more from the other students. Dennis said the course would be about how to teach lessons dealing with controversial issues without being fired. How does one use critical art pedagogy in a relatively conservative area? I came to learn & I came for the adventure. Maybe I’ll get both.

“If we do what you’re teaching us, we’ll get fired!”

This impassioned sentiment has been expressed any number of times by students in social theory-based art education programs, and its echo is heard from practicing art teachers who view social theory from the outside looking in. An entrenched timidity seems to persist in every layer of the art education field except the student layer. Members of the field often acknowledge a need for connecting art to the sometimes gritty issues in students’ lives, but they act as if these issues are surrounded by yellow police tape—DO NOT CROSS THIS LINE. To address these issues, many teachers fear that they must duck under the police tape and get busted. A course we offered as part of Texas Tech University’s Master of Art Education program at our satellite campus in Junction TX ¹ showed instead that such fears are ungrounded if teachers approach important but controversial matters wisely. Participants in this course learned that thoughtfully crossing the line can be a good idea, and that they can gently persuade the law to remove the tape that places a barrier between their own students and errantly forbidden dialog that can be of great value.

We based the course on theoretical foundations that span nearly a century (confer, for example, Apple, 1979; Dewey, 1916; Fehr, 1993; Friere, 1970; Giroux, 1991; The Guerrilla Girls, 1998; Nicholson, 1990; Nochlin, 1992; and Parker and Pollock, 1981). We also referred to a swelling body of practical applications (confer, for example, Cahan and Kocer, 1996; Check, 1997; Fehr, Fehr, and Keifer-Boyd, 1996; Garber, 1992; Kohl, 1994; Lanier, 1980; McFee, 1961; Smith-Shank, 1998; and Tomhave, 1992).

Ten graduate students took the course. Eight were P-12 art teachers, one was an art museum educator, and one, our co-author, was a Teachers College Ed.D. student with P-12 experience.

marker one: SPIRIT DRAWING

The course consisted of four markers: spirit drawing, readings, presentations, and the construction of mandalas and a labyrinth. The first marker, spirit drawing, is an approach to drawing that Dennis developed as an alternative to traditional approaches that he calls survival drawing. An article by Sparrowe (1996) on learning Sanskrit prompted the idea of spirit drawing. We piloted this approach in a two-hour workshop in April of 2002. The results were promising, so we decided to make it part of the summer-session course that we describe in this article.

We began each class with the spirit drawing marker. On the first day we asked each student to do a drawing without instructions. They were told only that they would show their drawings to their classmates when the exercise was finished. The students drew for about 15 minutes and then we asked them to hold up their drawings. Most of the students held them up shyly and cast furtive glances around the table, while some of the skilled renderers displayed theirs proudly.

Following this exercise we asked them how they felt when they did the drawings, knowing they would be asked to show them to their peers.

“Stressed.”

“Worried that my skills might not measure up.”

“I didn’t enjoy it.”

“Are you kidding? I got nervous just hearing that we had to bring a sketchbook to class!”

We asked if this situation reminded them of their undergraduate drawing experiences. It did. We asked if this was similar to the experiences they provided their students. Several admitted that it was.

We discussed the survival approach by which we all had learned to draw. An assumption of this approach is that drawing is a matter of talent. It creates a climate of competition with peers. We remembered how earnestly we sought to please the teachers who put yellow police tape around their inner circle of favored classroom artists. We worried about grades. We worried about failure and embarrassment. This approach cultivated a hunger to make an impressive finished product. When we succeeded in this, it disposed us to think, “I am better than the other students.” When we failed, it disposed us to think, “I am a weak artist.” We learned that drawing classes might cause us to believe less in ourselves. The survival approach quite possibly inhibited our growth as artists.

We then discussed how the spirit approach safely removes the yellow tape. We would begin by quieting our chattering minds and discarding our learned notions of competitiveness. We would support each other’s artistic growth by changing our focus from ‘me’ to ‘we.’ The classroom would be a safe haven for experimenting, taking risks, and for making drawings that did not satisfy us. We would fill the classroom with peaceful energy that we could feel when we walked in. We would focus on the process, ‘making marks’ in complete comfort. We would be open to the notion that drawing in this way creates paths to our inner selves. We would consider that such drawing becomes our souls’ expression. Notions of good and bad drawing become meaningless.

This idea aligns with our definition of social theory as having an “inward breath” and an “outward breath.” That is, we make the world a more peaceful place through our teaching and other activism (“outward breath”) as we concurrently nurture and heal our inner selves (“inward breath”) ^2. Mary also conducted free yoga sessions for the students as part of the “inward breath.”

Following our discussion, the students did their first spirit drawing. Each day after that, we started class with a spirit drawing. At first Dennis walked around peering over students’ shoulders as they drew and having them hold up their drawings when we were done, in an effort to make them comfortable with others viewing their work. After a few class meetings they told him that was not working and suggested that he do the spirit drawings along with them. He agreed and exchanged peering over their shoulders for doing his own spirit drawings.

He also moved to a voluntary “quilt” format for display. Students who wished to show their drawings could place their sketchbooks in rows in the middle of the table to make a “quilt.” Participation in the quilt, although voluntary, was almost unanimous throughout the course. We noted too that the amount of time the students desired for this exercise had doubled by the end of the course.

The spirit drawings deeply affected some of the students. The two most poignant examples involved mothers who had experienced tragedies with their children, a violent accidental death and an attempted suicide. Both approached Dennis privately to tell him that the process was helping them to heal. 

At the end of the course, students filled out anonymous assessment forms. Their unedited comments about the spirit drawing marker are as follows:

• Finally, a possible solution to the FOD (Fear of Drawing). Also helps teachers see the different ways students think visually. It has helped me get back into drawing and thinking through ideas using images, not just text. Also, it has helped me break the bad habit I had developed of becoming more and more precise. I’m moving back to more metaphor and symbolism.

• The important aspect of ‘soulful’ art was addressed in many ways but especially through the spirit drawings. The spirit of cooperation developed early in class.

• Great way to start a class/get centered. Very cool to take away competition. Freeing for those who didn’t like to draw. May stimulate art-making.

• Got off to a slow start but I was very drawn to the silent moment and learning to be free. Would like to continue this with myself and in the classroom.

• A chance to settle down, to think, to focus.

• Good class starter to calm down and focus. Made more of a community. Will use in my classes.

• Good way to start class. I appreciated the quilt approach. Lessened the competitive nature.

• The spirit drawings were a wonderful escape from representational drawing for me.

June 30
After introducing ourselves we began the routine of our 'spirit drawings.' We just draw, with no command. I can't seem to just go, so it was a narrative─a story of being here in this place I feel somewhat out of place in. I like the spirit drawing idea, none of that side-of-the-pencil-does-it-look-real stuff. Then we all show them. It feels like an 'I'll show you mine if you'll....' but the concept is good. They're all so different, though some are still making drawings based on the nature study idea, what Dennis aptly calls 'survival drawing.' I can see how this way of teaching drawing could open up things for our students. I notice he's very open to ideas from us, and changes with good suggestions. Practices what he preaches, but in a different voice from his writing. He also starts where the students are. I watch.

July 2
The spirit drawing idea is going well. Maybe this is a way to get back to drawing. I realize how little I draw now. I got so involved in the perspective idea. It was just about doing ‘good drawings’ but they weren’t really about anything.

July 5
I’m having a kind of cognitive dissonance here. Some of the things the others are afraid to teach I’ve been expected to teach my students. I’ve never been in a situation where I was afraid to teach something. I’m not really brave because my bravery has never been challenged. I guess I realize that some of the important things I’ve taught and discussed with my students could get a teacher in another place fired. Many seem reluctant to discuss with students social issues the kids bring up. They say they often tell them to talk to their parents or refer them to the guidance counselors. As one of the women in class said, “You hear horror stories that make you afraid to do anything.” It’s hard to go against that. We have to develop some kind of comfort talking about these things. What kids often want to talk about is the stuff teachers either don’t dare or the stuff we pretend doesn’t exist. It’s often what adult artists make work about. Which brings me to spirit drawing. Today, for some reason I did mine about my grandfather dying. The class’s drawings are transforming into re-presentations of experiences, thoughts and feelings. They’re becoming more personal, and distinctive styles are coming out. Dennis has stopped his hovering around us─it was like we were talking a test!─and is drawing with us. Much better. And no more show & tell with our drawings. Instead, if we want, we put our drawings in the center of the table. They make a sort of quilt, and we look at it throughout class.

marker two: READINGS

The assigned readings consisted of standard social-theory-in-art-ed pieces. This marker was innovative in that social theory is not widely discussed in art ed courses. The delivery, “read and react,” while traditional, nevertheless removed yards of yellow tape by generating healthy discussion of a long list of sensitive issues.

marker three: PRESENTATIONS

The objective of this marker was for each student to create curricular materials that dealt with a gritty, controversial issue by removing the yellow tape rather than sneaking under it. The students were to make copies of their presentations for the other members of the class. This marker turned out to be quite popular, perhaps in part because in the beginning some thought the task impossible. Although the presentations were ostensibly individual, they quickly became collaborative. The subjects of the presentations were:

• Dealing with prejudices against people who are overweight.

• Depression and low self-esteem.

• Redressing violations of human rights.

• Developing clay vessels that represent obstacles and strategies that may hinder or help attain our lives’ dreams and visions.

• Art in world religions.

• Defining a “normal” family.

• Art as a vehicle to overcome sexual harassment.

• Personal identity.

• Gay, lesbian, and bisexual issues.

The students’ comments on the presentations marker are as follows:

• Wonderful. Information we could USE.

• Great assignment, very concrete and helpful to teachers.

• Possibly most valuable aspect─each of us working to help each other.

• Probably the most valuable.

• Such a help. Great sharing and ideas.

• The lesson plans were great. I will use them! A wonderful sense of fellowship developed between class participants through group collaboration on projects.

• The class dialog helped in creating powerful presentations on social theory.

July 14
It’s fascinating to learn from the other students as they research, plan, and present their projects. At first, some presentations seemed less controversial than others, but I’m realizing how that is a relative understanding. Everything depends on who the teacher is and where she teaches. I have noticed that most everyone in the class has become more enthusiastic now that they understand that the project is not an agenda put on them─they choose the topic that they are interested in and that they think connects to their students.

What keeps sticking in my mind is that there’s a little contradiction happening. There are lessons being presented that deal with topics that teachers sometimes are reluctant to talk about with kids. How will this be dealt with? All validity is lost if we can’t discuss freely with students the topic we have introduced. Also, what about the art works that come out? Will teachers be able to deal with them?

July 16
Maybe I spoke too soon. This was an interesting day. Jill presented a great lesson sequence─“What Makes a Family?” We then talked about how to deal with the intolerance of students, parents and even teachers toward those who might be different or have ‘irregular families’. She has a student with ‘two mommies’. As we talked, the conversation shifted toward how we are stereotyping the conservative, religious right, etc.

I didn’t talk. I didn’t know what to say, but something was bothering me. Then it hit me. Several were saying that they just ignored the bigots, the intolerant ones, that they weren’t important. I realized I was going to get upset, but instead of getting up, I spoke. I told them that I worry about my gay friends. I fear for their safety in this world of sanctioned hatred, that this isn't a matter for ignoring. We need to speak & say ‘NO, I do not agree. You are wrong.’ When we are silent, it helps intolerance.

I didn’t want to be upset. In fact, it surprised me. Everyone was supportive. But if it was hard for me, how much harder is it for someone to confront a powerful leader? This is the first time I’ve been in a class that discussed something like this without everyone having almost identical value systems. It’s easy to speak your mind when everyone agrees with you.

July 17
More talk on social issues, gay issues and about fears of teaching certain things. The ‘line’ that cannot be crossed is far from specific─how can it be?─so the fear of crossing it without knowing is very real. It seems that the line is determined very often by the principal or arts coordinator, as a reaction to a complaint. Some of the art & poetry I introduced last year would have gotten me into a lot of trouble. Is it underestimating of kids or something else? I need to understand the fear.

The phrase ‘the kids can’t handle it’ comes up frequently. Can it be a euphemism for ‘we can’t handle it’ or ‘we don’t want the kids to see this’? Dennis points out the importance of involving parents and letting them know what will be taught, discussed and why. Parents might be afraid that their children will be influenced by evil things. That is reasonable. All parents should be acquainted with what happens in classes, not just those who are distrustful or have an agenda. The presentations today actually relate to this. Erica’s, on sexual harassment & ‘street’ harassment, was great. The only problem is, how do you show how insulting & demeaning such harassment is if you can’t show the art made about it? She kept saying, “You probably can’t use this,” every time she showed us a piece of art. The sad thing is, this is what kids experience. It doesn’t go away if nobody talks about it. Susan’s presentation is the bravest of all, about gay & lesbian issues and using the theme of isolation, ostracism, loneliness. Clever. I like her project of making masks with an outside and an inside – I even want to do that one. With all the presentations done, I wonder how many will be taught?

  marker four: THE LABYRINTH AND THE MANDALAS

the labyrinth

This marker consisted of two group projects that removed the yellow tape that limits some students’ definitions of art. It also provided additional opportunities to take both the inward and outward breaths. We created a Cretan labyrinth, to scale and with accurate specifications, as a permanent campus fixture. Mary provided the idea and the professional guidance, informing us that a labyrinth is a metaphor for life’s journey. It can be made from stones, hedges, floor tiles, or painted canvas. It differs from a maze in that it is a continuous path that always leads to the center, with no dead ends or wrong turns. Walking a labyrinth can calm one’s spirit, promote clarity, and inspire creativity. Mary shared the history of labyrinths and described their recent re-emergence in many traditional churches and healing centers, where they are used for prayer, meditation, or reflection.

Then came the physical challenge of constructing the labyrinth. On the day that we began the labyrinth project, Dennis informed the other students and faculty on campus that we intended to build a labyrinth and that we needed at least 1000 round, white rocks from the nearby Llano River to be hauled to the site.

A pile of what would become about 1200 rocks began to appear, provided not only by members of our class but in backpacks and car trunks of other students and faculty. The labyrinth instantly became a campus-wide endeavor.

Using an intricate but logical system of plastic flags to mark key placements, we laid out the entire labyrinth in a few days. Between the rock borders we spread soft mulch made for horse stalls. The warm brown color of the mulch contrasted beautifully with the pristine white of the round limestone rocks.

Mary suggested that we orient the labyrinth such that, when entering or standing in the center, the walker would be facing nature, symbolic of going inward (the ‘inward breath’). Exiting the labyrinth after the walk, the walker would face the campus buildings, symbolic of reintegrating with the outside world (the outward breath). She also recommended taking a few moments prior to the walk for contemplating an intention, perhaps teaching- or art-related.

During the walk inward we were guided to release negative thoughts or concerns. At the center, experiencing a moment of stillness, we might pause to connect with our innate wisdom, our intuition. As we walked the outward path, we were to contemplate how we might incorporate the chosen intention into our lives.

Although labyrinths appeared in Christian churches around the world centuries ago, they are less well-known today. Since they also appear among the relics of ancient non-Christian cultures, some people today are reluctant to accept the labyrinth as a spiritual tool. Three of the students in the class identified themselves as belonging to conservative religious traditions. The three agreed with the rest of the class that the spirit drawings were a positive experience. One expressed an early concern that the presentation marker was based on “a liberal agenda,” but when she realized that her presentation could safely express her views, she came to regard it as positive. Another expressed strong disagreement with a class reading on archaeological records of goddess imagery. Although the three participated fully in the construction of the labyrinth, and none voiced objections to us about it, they did not walk it on their own. Perhaps they were uncomfortable with what was to them an unfamiliar ritual, despite Mary’s description of a growing use of labyrinths both within and outside of many religious traditions.

The students’ comments about the labyrinth are as follows:

• Learning about the multicultural connections associated with the labyrinth will open many new doors.

• Fun and appreciated.  

• Loved it.

• Good cooperative project. However, one blurb of holding grades over our heads took a lot away from an otherwise enjoyable experience.

This last comment stemmed from a facetious remark Dennis made that was taken seriously: A student asked during the building of the labyrinth if he was grading them on their efforts. He took the question as a joke, having mentioned on the first day that he expected everyone to invest fully in all of the course activities, and if so, that we could put grades aside. So he barked in his gruffest voice, “Yes, getting an A involves your participation.” The student and apparently some of her classmates took that as a serious scold, so Dennis later expressed regret for the remark.

July 9
Got up early and walked briskly for 40 min. with Jane. She’s a very earnest and curious person. We had an interesting talk. We would have probably never spoken to each other outside this situation. I think we both have challenged each other’s prejudices, i.e., me as the ultra-liberal-northern-urbanite, and she as the devout-Christian-Texas-small-towner. We listened and learned.

July 14
Went with Susan to gather rocks for the labyrinth. As we picked up the beautiful white rocks, we talked about, what else? Religion. After discussing the fear behind the campaign against Harry Potter here, she asked me about the controversy about the ‘Madonna and dung” painting at the Brooklyn Museum’s Sensation Show. She was curious because, though she had read so much about it being sacrilegious, she had never actually been able to see a picture of it. The description she had read was amazingly inflammatory and inaccurate. I explained what it actually looked like, and the artist’s quite reverent intent. That led to us discussing religion, art, censorship and fear of art. An intense and invaluable discussion for both of us.

After the discussion we drove the carload of rocks to the labyrinth site, which brings me to the big deal of the day. When we were unloading them, I was bitten by some pit bull ant and the pain nearly put me out for the whole day. I can walk around the New York streets at night but it’s like Wild Kingdom out here. Now I understand the cowboy boots.

the group mandala

We based the first part of the mandala project─the creating of a community mandala─on an article by Tom Anderson (2002). Following Anderson’s lead, we rooted our projects within the eight-step mandala tradition of Buddhism, which could be read as an eight-step process of removing the yellow police tape that separates us from our own centers, our own personal truths, and our higher purposes:

• Purification of the self.

• Meditative centering on the purpose of the mandala.

• Orientation to the spiritual harmony of other participants.

• Physical construction of the mandala.

• Absorption of the purpose into oneself.

• Destruction of the mandala.

• Reintegration to the outside world, and

• Actualization (for which the other steps are prelude)─the blending of the mandala’s lessons with one’s life.

Anderson discusses these steps in greater detail, but we will briefly discuss the destruction step. The Buddhist mandala is the ultimate gesture of process over product (this is also true of Navajo mandalas. See Bahti, 2000). Mandalas, as beautiful as they may be, are not artifacts for perpetual aesthetic contemplation, unlike fine art of the West. Their purpose is inner growth, part of which is developing the ability to let go. When mandalas are completed, they serve no purposes for the creator other than as vehicles for steps of Destruction, Integration and Actualization. Their continued existence would impede these steps; hence their destruction.

the individual mandalas

For the second component of the mandala project we asked each student to create her own mandala on the sidewalk outside the door of the cafeteria. This site was chosen because it would be viewed (and walked on, we hoped) by nearly everyone on campus. The mandala would exist for one day and be removed at nightfall, making room for the next person’s mandala the following day.

These mandalas prompted much campus discussion. We enjoyed seeing the cooks gather early each morning for animated discussion of the new day’s mandala. As with the presentations, the students turned the daily mandalas into group projects. Then students enrolled in other courses began to assist in the creating sessions that often turned into late-night mandala parties. Mandala making became a voluntary time of collaboration and socializing each evening. The last mandala was a spontaneous and elaborate creation made entirely by students from outside the course.

The materials for both the group mandala and the individual mandalas were earth-friendly. The media were often mixed, favoring chalk and natural materials such as seeds, leaves, berries, and sticks. The themes of these mandalas tended to be personal and symbolic─of a kind with the spirit drawings. During the course, we took a field trip to view Native American rock paintings (spirit drawings at their most evolved) and the motifs that appeared in the mandala the following day were based on those of the rock paintings.

The students’ comments about the mandala projects were as follows:

• The mandalas were fun─the cooperation. The “temporariness” was somehow stress relieving. Thank you!

• Learning about the multicultural connections associated with the mandala and labyrinth will open many new doors.

• Became another way to make the class closer.” The next sentences are difficult to read, but appear to say, “We were all so in focus. The mandalas were a neat way to share art with others on campus.

• Exciting and thought-provoking group cooperative project.

• What fun! I loved the group projects and the immediate feel of artistic satisfaction.

• Great ‘studio’ idea that also broadens our idea of what art is.

July 2
We talked in class about religion and it seems that, for some, teaching about non-Christian faiths can be problematic. If a lesson is on mandalas, many in the class don’t think it’s wise to mention Buddhism. There is a lot of fear: fear of losing jobs, fear of parents for their kids, fear of authority. Talked also about possible social issues or topics they were interested in and─this is fascinating─nobody mentioned race. In NYC, race is always first, but not a word here. Suicide, homosexuality, they were mentioned, but not race. Wonder why.

July 18
Talked a bit about Susan’s presentation, but too gingerly, I think. Had an overview talk about the class. Some good criticism. The spirit drawing seemed to be a big success. They are so much more meaningful than the tentative sketches we did in the beginning. Linda was able to tell Dennis how his “Participation is part of getting an A” comment when we worked on the labyrinth was out of line. He knew exactly what she was talking about and agreed with her. Not only is it good for us to know that he wasn’t oblivious to what he did, but it is good modeling. Brave enough to take criticism in the presence of the class and to own up to a mistake. Can we do that too?

 It’s amazing what community we have created in so short a time. Looking back, just about everyone’s lessons asked important questions that students could discuss and deal with through their art. This is social theory in practice.

The final piece of this experimental course was determining if it actually inserted social theory into these teachers’ curricula. In January 2003, six months after the course, we emailed them asking how/if they were incorporating course content into their teaching. Here are responses we received:

• Dennis, I begin every art class with a ten-minute spirit drawing. The kids love it, and it is amazing how every student participates. We put our quilt together at the end of the ten minutes and have a quick look at what everyone has contributed. Social theory is alive and well in my classes. We have some interesting projects going on right now and the kids are excited about their work. I will send you some pics when the projects are finished.

• Thanks for the instruction I received this past summer.  My students are enjoying their freedom to express themselves without judgment from others and are displaying a personal commitment to their art.

• I've been asked to teach an art education class [at the local university] this spring. In developing the curriculum, I was extremely aware of the need to encourage students to re-evaluate art history texts so that a broad-based inclusion of many cultures and women is studied. I also see the need for art exploration without fear or judgment. The spirit drawings accomplish this but they also allow participants to appreciate the sheer joy of making marks or images intrinsically. A meditative, thoughtful atmosphere seems to result. Your class this summer was on my mind when I worked on this lesson: The college students will be encouraged to delve into contemporary issues that elementary students face such as bullying, blended families, death and loss, peer pressure, solitude.... In a clay unit, students will be introduced to clay through pinch pot and coiling techniques. Combining these techniques, students will create self-portraits of themselves as young children, later to be used as puppets. After firing the portraits, they will be mounted on dowels and painted with acrylics. Costumes will be fashioned out of scrap material covering the dowels. Students will break into small groups to develop a script around one of the contemporary issues they are drawn to and then present the performance. I hope this project allows them to contemplate the joys and challenges facing young children. Most of all, I hope they enjoy preparing this project and investigating the issues so that they might to do something similar in their own classrooms. In my job at the museum, I'm continuing to work on community outreach through collaborations. A current artist-in-residency program with the museum and university has added a new partner¾a welding class. The welding students will participate along with the college art students in a sculpture workshop and artist’s slide presentation. I'll let you know how these go. I'd also love to hear how my fellow junction buddies have developed social theory ideology in their jobs.

• My teaching has changed since last summer from a combination of things, including your class. I've changed some of my personal habits since last summer too. For instance, I stretch every night before going to bed, and then sit and meditate, for lack of a better word. I tend to get distracted by thoughts, but I try to clean out my mind for a bit. It definitely helps me sleep! This was brought on by many factors, including Mary’s discussions, the labyrinth, and my religious retreat after I left Junction. As for my teaching itself, I try to catch myself before being too sarcastic or tease-y with the kids. Some of our discussions this summer helped me to gain a larger sense of how that type of language can intimidate some people. I want them to feel warm and welcome in my room, not intimidated (although I realize I can be intimidating. I guess it's in my nature.) And the lesson plans we came up with in Junction have been jumping-off points for some of my own lesson ideas. I haven't yet used my electronic media lesson/ we should be ready for that in February. Lastly, I feel better now about having had some of the discussions in class that we had: Everything from gay rights to war with Iraq to fundamentalism, because now I know that I'm not the only person who thinks kids at school should be learning more than academics, and I'm definitely not the only art teacher who feels that way. If I can generate just a little tolerance in my kids before they leave here, I've accomplished something.  Even if they can't ‘draw a straight line, they'll be better people.

• Although I consider myself to be a compassionate teacher, after taking the Social Theory course I have discovered a deeper understanding of how my students relate to their assignments. I am able to read more accurately into their work and build a better rapport with each of them through their drawings.  I am also capable of reaching them on a more personal level, and appreciating their individual work in a new light from learning more about their home environments. Each child is diverse. Each work is unique. These are two sentiments that I knew and practiced from the beginning, but until studying Social Theory began to lay dormant within me.  I find myself loving my job and students more because of the insightful tools I gained from the instruction and discussions of the course.

• The social theory course showed me a way to teach students how to include their own meanings in art, not just the techniques of composition. In the back of my mind I knew there is so much art that expresses human feelings, struggles, histories, and dreams. This course gave me the steppingstones for introducing these situations, in addition to the foundations of technique and composition. To test it out, I included one project in each six-week unit to inspire my students to consider topics such as giving direction to their lives, assessing the places from which they have come (physically and emotionally) and events that affect the world around us. So far my students are responding positively, ‘getting into’ those assignments more since the projects directly revolve around them.

• I will be teaching a course on adolescence to art ed majors. Some are second career designers in their 50s. I was told that their knowledge of art history is 'not much'. In a 3-hour class every other week, I am to teach them about adolescent development, youth cultures, curriculum development, lesson planning, and the social theory behind it all. What from your class has influenced me? I will be emphasizing relevance to students’ lives in every aspect, partly by having my students do projects that connect to their lives. I will also be using readings and resources that are about or are created by adolescents.

  	Abilities I want to impart:
  	Enabling adolescents to understand contemporary art.
  	Understanding adolescent development.
  	Understanding the power of listening to students.
  	Becoming comfortable with youth cultures.
  	Writing relevant lesson plans based on their experiences.
  	Making some art that is relevant to their lives.
  	Learning non-chalk/talk ways of discussing art and artists.
  	I'd also like them to write lessons based on their experiences/learning.

Well, that list contains my hopes and dreams. If my students have to be thrust out into a classroom after 17 credits of education, I figure the more lessons based in social theory (what I sometimes call relevance), the better. The elements and principles of design are easy to find in any art textbook.

These responses suggest that this course gave class members tools for removing the police tape from sensitive issues that affect their students. They acted on their knowledge of social theory by safely teaching controversial subjects in their classrooms. We will continue to publish our findings as we explore this new art educational territory. We encourage teachers of all subjects to realize that the police tape is bad for all of us. We must teach not only traditional content but also the human and humane interconnectivity that gives our content its richest meaning. We cannot solve social crimes if we cannot approach the crime scenes.

endnotes

1. For more information on Texas Tech University’s MAE program and its Junction campus, see www2.tltc.ttu.edu/fehr. Click on Publications.

2. See Akins (1996) for discussion of the importance of art teachers nurturing themselves.

references

Akins, F. (1996). The sacred in the art room. In Real-world readings in art education: Things your professors never told you. (pp. In D. Fehr, M.K. Fehr, & K. Keifer-Boyd (Eds.), New York: Falmer Press.

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