Tools for Resistance: The Importance of Art, Research, and Writing

by Lynn Clement


Although I’ve always tried to take an activist’s approach to art history and fought against the notion that it is inconsequential, there have been times that I have succumbed to the denigrations of my profession.  In the wake of the 2016 election, with attacks on immigrants, refugees, the LBGT community, the rise of violence against people of color, and the return of the white supremacist public voice (to name a nauseating few), my job felt particularly frivolous.  I am lucky to have a circle of friends who are avid do-gooders.  Through their chosen careers they fight for voting rights, for reproductive rights, for clean energy and natural resources, and for fair banking practices (to name a brilliant few).  Being surrounded by such people gives me an enormous sense of pride, and an enormous inferiority complex. What could I do to make a difference?

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In the wake of this election I have read more than ever before because when I am in doubt, I do research. I turned to articles and books to guide me to an answer, to guide me out of inaction and uncertainty.  I read Between the World and Me by Ta-Nehisi Coates.  I read This is an Uprising: How Nonviolent Revolt is Shaping the Twenty-First Century by Mark and Paul Engler.  I read Strangers in Their Own Land: Anger and Mourning on the American Right by Arlie Russell Hoschchild.  I read Women, Race, and Class by Angela Davis.  I read We Should All Be Feminists by Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie.  I read The New Jim Crow by Michelle Alexander.  I read So You Want to Talk about Race by Ijeoma Oluo.  Most recently, I read Your Art Will Save Your Life by Beth Pickens.  While each of these books have been immensely important and helpful, it is the last in my list that I would like to expound on because of its resonance for those of us who might feel they are ill equipped to be part of the movement against the growing tide of injustice.

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Beth Pickens’ book is an open letter to those working in the fine arts, but her advice could be used for anyone. The passage that will likely reverberate wider than what the author may have originally intended reads:

“The lesson I took away—and that I access during every natural and human-centered crisis—is that I can start exactly where I am, with what I have, to work toward justice and be of service to someone more vulnerable than I am.  I don’t have to wait.  I don’t need to become somebody else or wish for difference skills.”  (Pickens, 28)

This is the passage from the book that most inspired me.  What are my skills?  What is my passion?  What is my creative outlet?  What do I hope will impact others on a micro or macro level?  For me, it is my research and my teaching.  I had my answer; this is what I could do.

I could find ways to expand the discourse and challenge the status quo. I could strive to think even more critically about what I see and read, and I could teach students to do the same.  I have long been in the process of rewriting my lectures to be inclusive of voices of those that had been marginalized throughout history; I could double, triple my efforts.  I could create more assignments that challenge long time ascertains about art, art making, and art seeing. I could give to my student food bank and reach out to students in a greater way. Many would now be dealing with less assistance and would be dealing with family members (or their own) threats of deportation.  I could also support writers and scholars working to improve the inclusiveness of my, and related, fields.  This is how I could channel my fear and anger.  “Anger is real and necessary, and it can be transformed into fuel.” (Pickens, 37)

“When our culture becomes oppressive and moves toward upholding the white supremacist capitalist militarist patriarchy, we need creative, public forms of dissent to inspire, counter fatigue, rally, instigate, and inform.” (Pickens, 104)

Art is often in service to those in power, however, art has always had a purpose beyond that.  “I read about artists making work during war, in times of violence, and despite systemic neglect.” (Pickens, 10)  Art has power and it can give voice to the powerless.  I think this is one of the reasons that art is viewed as dangerous.  It can easily be used to tear down the false narratives that our nation was built on.  I could address those false narratives in my approach to history and how it has been recorded in visual forms.

“Your art will help you navigate the world, and it will light the way for others.” (Pickens, 9)

As I look to those working in the fine arts to light my way, I can say the same for fellow scholars working in the humanities.  Again, to make this change I’m doing my research and finding likeminded teachers, scholars, and historians.  They are making a difference and they are helping me to strive for the same.  A tumblr page entitled People of Color in European Art History provides outstanding resources for addressing race in the visual arts. LaTanya S. Autry has created an invaluable resource regarding museums and social justice. Smarthistory.org has amazing resources on myriad art historical subjects, but their Seeing America theme is particularly helpful in addressing notions of a more inclusive National Identity in the visual arts.  Angela Sutton and her colleagues at the Vanderbilt Center for Digital Humanities working on the Slave Societies Digital Archive have inspired me to address hard histories in my classroom despite the risk.  Pickens’ book offered additional people of action like Marcia Chatelain who created the #Fergusonsyllabus, a resource for educators teaching “every age group in every discipline, to share resources for bringing racism, policing, urban history, civil rights, and black history into each of their classrooms…” (27)

I still feel inadequate and ineffectual most of the time, but the more I read, the more I learn, the more I see others in my field resisting, the more I feel better equipped to help.  “We have a vision for the world we want to live in, and we have the tools for resistance.” (Pickins, 25)

Woman on a Mission: My Search for Community in an Academic Gig Economy

By Lynn Clement


The trajectory of my career has been driven by the firm belief that access to education in the arts should not be a luxury and my pursuit of this mission has lead me to teach at local community colleges. Working in this setting allows me the extraordinary opportunity to meet people of different backgrounds, with myriad academic interests and life experiences, all which improve my teaching and strengthen the approach to my discipline.  However, an adjunct professor, in particular, forges odd professional relationships.  Due to shifting, and often conflicting, schedules with our colleagues, it can be lonely work.  While I value deeply the interactions I have experienced in the adjunct faculty lounge, finding alternative communities in which to support professional creativity, development, and collaboration is also essential and can be found in unlikely places. FB_IMG_1515115484807

Not long ago I turned to Twitter in my quest for community (and cute dog pictures) and have found people there that have provided helpful insight and support. Sure, social media is a large briquette in our current political dumpster fire, but that doesn’t mean these forums are entirely unhelpful.  I started following museums, academic journals, and education organizations and from there was able to find other professionals to follow.  From their posts I get access to relevant and timely articles, information on conferences, symposiums, calls for papers, grant opportunities, and the like.

Without access to social media sites like Twitter, Linkdin, and Instagram I never would have come across important and supportive ways to amplify my voice, like Smart Women Write. It is through these communities that I attempt to use the power of words to convey the power of art.  And I’m not alone.  It’s through Twitter that I also learned of HistorioBlogs like Age of Revolutions, important art organizations like Arts Emergency, and scholars like @medievalpoc, all of whom are working to change the discourse of the art world.  They have impacted my work immensely.

My one constant as a professor is that I will meet new people every 16 weeks.  Despite their ultimate physical absence, students can leave a lasting impression. While negative experiences cause permanent amendments in your syllabus (“I guess I have to put that in writing”), positive experiences cause long-lasting growth in your life. I often recall the most invested and passionate students I’ve had the pleasure to teach. One, a successful engineer, with several advanced degrees already, was taking my class to learn something entirely unfamiliar, to attempt something entirely untried, to search for innovation in an unknown subject.  It was an approach to self-examination and self-improvement that I would first envy, and then model.

The courage I witness in my students inspires me to further my own professional development. For example, I am learning the programming language called Python.  I have reached the point in my career where I feel I can do more to make art education inclusive and broaden its reach through new media and technology.  I have my students to thank for this inspiration and motivation.

This motivation has also lead me to various professional events throughout the year.  Time and money are difficult to come by, but I’ve found that attending (semi) local conferences, symposiums, and lectures can offer great personal and professional development in addition to inspiring creative collaboration.  In addition, many offer live feeds or recordings of the presentations if you are unable to attend in person.

I recently had the opIMG_20180412_110542353_HDR.jpgportunity to attend a symposium entitled, “Searching Through Seeing: Optimizing Computer Vision Technology for the Arts” at the Frick Collection in New York focusing on the ways in which art historical inquiry (and even creativity) can be advanced through computer learning.  My trip included a 4 am wake up, several miles of walking, a crowded Friday night train, and amazing presentations by leaders in the fields of digital art history and computer programming. I ended my day dirty, hungry, and exhausted, but I also had a notebook full of quality research leads, names, and email addresses.  Many of those people were looking for professional contacts just like me.  Perhaps adjuncts are not the only group who are searching for community.

This is also one of the reasons that I was ecstatic to become part of Smart Women Write.  I look forward to writing more about my experiences as an adjunct art history professor, about my experimentation with technology, about my personal and professional interests, goals, and passions, and, like Raquelle’s fantastic post from last week, my own approach to self-care. In doing so it is my hope that you will also find community here.

 

 

 

 

 

Teacher As Student: Resources

pexels-photo-953430.jpegFive weeks. Just five weeks from now, my students will pack up their bags, drop off their laptops at the Help Desk, and clear out from campus for other exciting adventures. A week later, I’ll have grades in and be sitting on the cusp of the promised land of summer.

If that sounds like I’m waiting for the next great thing, I promise I’m not. These next five weeks are full of many exciting new things, such as wrapping up my Atlantic World History course and Contemporary Global Issues research course (for the last time ever, as we’re changing curriculum next year). More than ever, my students are coming into their own as thinkers and writers, the culmination of a long year of hard work, and it’s exciting to see the pieces fall into place.

Sure, there are plenty of moments when I think everyone is ready to be done – our seniors walk out the door at the end of next week, and that always signals the beginning of the end, the feeling of “Oh, can’t WE have time for ourselves, too, please?”

Let’s not jump too far ahead, though. I look forward to summer because it gives me all that time for myself and for dreaming of the next course coming up, but also because summer gives me a chance to learn and be.

A lot of educators use the summer for professional development, but it’s also something many of us do year-round. Since the summer of 2011, my summer opportunities have included all sorts of fun things, like:

It’s been fabulous, but that’s just been the start. I learned pretty early on that there are also a lot of options for professional development during the school year, if you can manage to swing it along with everything else. I haven’t done it every year, but every couple of years I somehow find myself trying something new, just for kicks and to fill in some of my knowledge gaps.

There are so many options out there. I’ve gathered some ideas below based on my own experiences, in case these ideas help others get started. If you have additional resources to share, add them to the comments!

National Consortium for Teaching about Asia
This is my top resource, hands-down, for anything you ever wanted to learn about Asian history. Asian history has never been my strong suit, but when you teach 20th Century World and World History in general, it’s amazing to have an organization like this around to help you out. Since I discovered the NCTA a few years ago, I’ve taken three online courses: Mao’s China, Japan since 1945, and China’s Dynasties (currently wrapping that up now). The instructors are amazing, the resources phenomenal – you can’t go wrong with anything here.

Virginia Geographic Alliance
While I don’t think the course is currently running, two years ago a colleague got me connected with Virginia Geographic Alliance’s “Putting Social Studies in its Place,” a 5-week online course that got me back into GIS (geographic information systems) for the first time since grad school (and working with ArcGIS in a way that didn’t make me crazy for the first time EVER). Last fall, I got to get more training with their follow-up course for those of us who’d done the first one. I’m still so much of a newbie when it comes to integrating GIS like I’d like to, but I’ve come huge distances thanks to the team here. (Now they’ve even got me thinking about how to design my own Geoinquiries like the ones here.)

Facebook group: Scholarships, Grants and Summer Institutes for Teachers
Teachers in the know KNOW this group. Want to find any sort of program? You’ll find it here, along with feedback from people who have done it, and occasionally people who pick the participants in any given program. This group is a great way to stay on top of opportunities as they arise throughout the year, in addition to the larger slate of summer PD opportunities that are out there.

Other programs that offer PD throughout the year:

It’s just a start, but if you or someone you know is looking for future study opportunities like these (and they’re often free and/or funded) – check these out and share other ones you might know!

Looking Out For Yourself in the Academic Gig Economy

Note: want to write with us? See this post and apply by March 10!

When you have a salaried academic job, your tasks could fall roughly into two categories: Things you must do, and things you should do. When you’re surviving off of pay from adjuncting, your list and their list are not going to be the same.

When salaried, I know I must do: Teach. Research. Publish. Go to mandatory meetings. Conferencing. Attending department events and participating.  If I don’t do these things, I likely won’t keep my job. It will be noticed almost immediately.

When salaried, I know I should do, to ensure the health and longevity of the field: Peer review. Book reviews. Mentoring graduate students.  Guest lectures for colleagues. Public outreach and activism within our larger communities. Administrative tasks necessary to invite scholars, arrange symposiums, help out with conferences, etc.  Taking academic guests out to dinner. Driving guests to/from the airport, and generally being a good host. Closed-door chats with concerned colleagues. Grant writing. Creating and sharing educational materials. Office hours with students.  Supervising student workers. Committee work.  Maintaining listservs. Twitter. Volunteering when the local public needs a professional opinion. Responding to email requests from unknown scholars and grad students who want to share resources or research. Collaborating with centers on campus that correspond to my research interests. Teaching others how some program or equipment in the lab works. Probably more things I can’t think of right now. All of this takes time, and I don’t really get rewarded for doing it. If I don’t do it, people will eventually notice, and I won’t be considered a team player. The field will suffer from the lack of people putting work in.

The problem with these Must Do and Should Do lists is that everything on them takes a certain amount of time. Everything on them also occupies a certain place on your CV. All the things I must do take up about 40 hours of my week, if I do them well. Anything additional that gets added on from the should do list, comes out my personal time. It’s a constant calculation – is task x worth spending y hours of my personal time on? Do I like doing it? Would I rather go on a hike, or have that line on my CV? How will I be perceived next to all the people who chose to forego the hike and add that line to their CV?

And back before I was salaried, when I had just finished grad school, I pieced multiple jobs together to keep afloat. I adjuncted (paid per class), I tutored (paid per hour), I translated (paid per word), I freelanced (paid however I could get) and I did some administrative tasks for the department (paid per hour).  As I supported myself, my first priority was ensuring I took enough paying work to keep my finances in order.  I needed to pay bills, and that took at least 40 hours per week. In my little spare time, I strategically chose things from the Must Do and Should Do lists, making CV and time calculations in my head. Which tasks were most worth it? Which tasks had the biggest payoff for the least amount of time investment? To who was I beholden?

Most of the things I did came from the Must Do list. Choosing from the Should Do list was a calculated risk, because many of those things would only matter if I stayed in academia. I don’t have to tell you that the chances were, and still are, against me. If I couldn’t find an academic job, like most people who graduate with a PhD nowadays, many of these tasks would be close to useless on a re-tooled Resume for the corporate world. So to be very strategic and yes, mercenary, about my time and my life (You only get one, after all, and no one knows how long that will be), I prepared myself for alt-ac.  I chose to do the tasks that would best translate from a CV onto a Resume. That means choosing the tasks that would push me to learn skills that are valued outside of academia, such as collaboration, organization, giving presentations, grant writing (and all writing in general), high-level administration and management, and digital skills.

So for the purposes of this post, maybe instead of dividing these tasks up by Must Do and Should Do, I could divide them by helpful only in academia, and helpful in both academia and alt ac. They would look very different then.

The point of this blog post, is that you shouldn’t feel bad for getting by however you can. The Must do and Should Do lists were created long before you were born, back when nearly everyone with a PhD and a baseline mental stability got a tenure-track job, and was salaried. As the work model changes, and universities hire more contingent labor that gets paid per gig, a lot of these tasks on the Should Do lists become greater and greater risks for the untenured. They are risks you do not have to take.

Repeat after me. You do not have to take these risks.

You do not have to perform service to your profession until your profession has let you in, and invested in you. It is exploitative to perform this work for free, when you are getting paid (usually quite poorly and less than what your labor is worth) by the hour or class. Right now, only do those things that you love and will help you get ahead, however you are choosing to define that. Once salaried, you can start giving back.

Until then, practice saying no. Be strategic about the unremunerated labor you perform for the profession. Make sure it benefits you, too. It’s what any salaried academic would do if their job security were threatened and they had student loans to pay off while making adjunct-level money.

The End of Time, and Regeneration

Acc Syllabus

The new year is barely underway, but one major part of my life this school year is about to come to a close: my 20th century world history course.

I teach on a trimester system, so technically the course won’t end until around Valentine’s Day, but we finished content this last week because the students wrap things up with a major documentary project. I entered the new years prepping lessons for a final week of topics, and now I’m finalizing a final exam they’ll take on Thursday and Friday. After that, they piece together a documentary they’ve spent all year working on, and before we know it, we’ll all be done.

Continue reading “The End of Time, and Regeneration”

Teaching Apartheid

Five months later, I think of South Africa often, but nothing took me back to South Africa like this past week.

My 20th Century World History Accelerated (aka honors) students are studying nationalism and decolonization in these weeks before winter break. Mostly, the unit gives them a general narrative thread (in their homework) along with a few case studies (in class). I’d really love a full term on any one of the case studies we have, but this gets them started and exposes them to some history they’ve never thought about.

As a case study, South Africa is an interesting starting point, since it’s not about independence from European power (as they see in India or Congo). Independence from the apartheid regime is certainly key, though, as is nationalism. While apartheid South Africa looks different than many other places we could examine, it’s a powerful case study any way you look at it.

I also think that the story of resistance to apartheid, and the ways in which the South African people have tried to move forward, is one that connects well to recent publicity around police brutality and Black Lives Matter in the US. The story of Hector Pieterson, in particular, connects well to the topic of state intervention against peaceful protests.

In this post, I’ll take you through how I taught apartheid (and the end of it) in South Africa this year in one 90-minute session. Below, I talk about how I revamped the class this year and my goals with the new approach, the way I framed the class, what I’d do differently, and offer the resources that helped me make this class.

Continue reading “Teaching Apartheid”

Creative Control

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We cannot teach everything.

I learned this during a world history graduate seminar years ago. I hadn’t thought about the challenges of teaching world history until then, but there it was, staring us all down: what do you teach when you can’t teach everything? How do you decide what stays and what goes?

How do you shape the narrative?

Continue reading “Creative Control”