Boldly Braiding

Post here for Allies if needed...

 
Ever since I ran into this text several years ago, it has been a great resource for laying down groundwork with activists/artists of all ages.  The introductory section gives a great set of vocabulary terms that apply to field of community arts, and they are explained in straight-forward language.  It was this text that really gave me a toolbox for developing projects with teens, and giving teens several frameworks for analyzing community projects. 

What I admire most about the book as a whole is that it does not assume that the artist is the center of the community project, but that the community itself is the real center.  There is an expectation of humility and a need for listening, that is built into the analyses of projects--whether a person is from the community or from the outside.  It is vital that we all see each other as carriers of treasures; although the artist may have a special skill set that makes them a unique asset for a project,  it is the collective need and desire that will inform the role of that artist.

The Critical Pedagogy Reader, Knowing as Instructors
"...In the social justice classroom where social identity is central to the content, the significance of who we are often takes center stage."(465)

"As teachers we can offer our experience with both dominant and targeted identities as a way to join with students, expand the boundaries in the room for discussing these subjects and model being open to exploring our own relative positions of power and privilege in relation to different oppression issues."(465)

The questions in these articles highlight the issues we face creating constructive spaces of self-reflection and critical inquiry. I would like to apply this to myopia in social justice and arts education.

A graduate level student stated, "I have been in classrooms where the class becomes about the professor. While I think sometimes it’s done from a place of self-reflection, I think other times the professor is coming from a place of feeling superior in his identity consciousness and intellect. I think when people come from this place, it makes it difficult to create meaningful dialogue between students and teachers, or even students and students."

This dynamic does not just happen in traditional classrooms. but can also be prevalent in 'social justice' spaces and arts spaces. An instructor can be teaching the American Revolution, or be teaching an alternative or resistance narrative to the American Revolution, but it is HOW the lesson is conducted that gives it sway as liberatory education informed by dialogue and questioning. There are some teachers who are so determined in challenging traditional curriculum, that they forget to survey students/participants concerns/backgrounds/interests. Thus a lesson that was intended to be resistant ends up being a traditional lesson about a resistance narrative. It is vital to find time for SOME lessons we do work from the participants outward. A social justice teacher can communicate in such a rebel expert way, but can forget the rebel practices of dialogue and dialectic informing the lessons chosen.

I say that we should strive to not be authoritarians SOME of the time, because much of the time we are still responding to bureaucratic demands of the systems we teacher in which dictate content and social norms, and there is often a time limit in courses governed by standards that make Socratic discussion inaccessible and time-consuming. So it should be a GOAL to transgress normative and traditional frameworks some of the time--to let the participants' discussion inform the subject matter, to take the role of listener and learner rather than leader and talker, and to let go of certain goals in respect of goals the group will develop as co-developed lessons unfold.

Greater self-knowledge again highlights the need for personal reflection as educators and activists:
Who am I (today)?
What are my traditional practices, and what can I do differently?
What made me decide the topic for today?
Who are my students and how can I know them better?
What are their societal concerns and how can use these to inform my content decisions?
WHat did I learn today from interactions with my students, and what my I do differently next time?

There are a million other questions we can ask ourselves; the above are starting points for me.
Make a personal journal (even if it sounds corny). If we have to spend so much time taking attendance, can we make time to attend to our own self-growth? Hopefully...

Raven is a graffiti writer and educator for the University of Hip-Hop (UHipHop) organization. He has taught in the Chi-town public schools for eighteen years, and has been doing community hip-hop projects for more than two decades. In the process of completing his doctoral studies, Raven is shaping the "Boldly Braiding" theoretical process of developing interdisciplinary curricular lessons that involve social justice, transformative change, and the hip-hop arts. UHipHop develops and admires projects that invigorate spiritual growth, personal and communal epiphanies, and magical experiences through the luminous arts crafts. Please visit universityofhip-hop.blogspot and communityrejuvenation.blogspot to learn more about the work that we do as a national collective.

Undercover Racism vs. Freedom of Expression

Explosions Waiting to Happen

This entry is in reference to the article “The Political Iconography of Muhammad Cartoons: Understanding Cultural and Political Action” by Marion G. Muller and Esra Ozcan.

The publication of cartoons of the prophet Muhammad in the Danish periodical Jyllands-Posten depicted sarcastic, humorous, critical, insightful, inflammatory, and/or possibly racist and culturally prejudiced images and concepts depending on the perspective of the viewer. There are two binary vantage points that mark both extremes of how these cartoons have been perceived. The first is that the cartoonist was displaying racist, religiously biased, and culturally ignorant images that are rooted in stereotyped caricatures of the father of the Islamic religion. The opposing perspective is that any such rendition through cartoon artwork is protected by tenets of free speech and expression, and can be judged and criticized, but has the privilege and right of entering the public sphere without censure. Both positions co-exist, and are vehemently defended by governments, cultural institutions, communities and individuals who are grounded in historical contexts informing those ‘standards of respect’ and ‘standards of expression.’

In reality both perspectives are more than valid, and each has to deal the repercussions of the historical tumult that precedes, surrounds, and follows the publication of these cartoons. One would have to be myopic and ignorant to not expect these cartoons to have a backlash from both sides of this binary; the reality being that they could spur dialogue between cultural viewpoints, or serve to widen the gulf between the West and some Muslim communities. The prevalent tensions in the global socio-political landscape indicate that the fire would spur entrenchment in the latter, widening the gulf, and that the artists and publishers will have to face vindication and retaliation from those who have been offended. Who is surprised that threats have been made and attacks incurred?

There are two forms of iconography represented in the discourse surrounding these images. There is the original representation of Muhammad as a religious leader, an icon, to be visual shown with great respect or not at all within Islamic traditions. Then there are the repercussive emanations pulsing from the representation of Muhammad in these cartoons, as they become historic icons. Noting “iconography is a comparative method, aimed at disclosing the meanings of visuals in a specific context at a specific time,” (287) the meanings and associations with these visuals are differentiated by a history of ‘heroic respect’ and ‘societal commentary.’ Icons inevitably are images embedded with meaning, drawn from their place in history and their interpretations by historically placed viewers.

“One can argue that artists were guided by the medium in which they worked: the essential stylistic elements of the cartoon as an art form are exaggeration, ridicule, and distortion. Still the argument is not sufficient to explain the overall negative tone of the cartoons.” (289)

What may go unexamined, but which is brought out in the article, is that two extreme political viewpoints have been expressed in the process of publishing these cartoons. The iconographic meanings swirling around these cartoons illuminate social quandaries that must be recognized and challenged. The newspaper and the cartoonist have proved themselves to be racist and prejudiced to some degree, because the publisher would not put out cartoons depicting Jesus in such a compromising position. It’s seems that extremism is only attributed to the response of Muslim activists to the cartoons, and not to the cartoonist and publisher purveying images that may be representative of a hegemonic view towards Islam in some Western nations. It is necessary not to simply coalesce these images into the political ring of freedom of speech, but to critically analyze them for the racism that under girds the mentality informing the creative venture of the artist. Perhaps the artist and the newspaper and a number of the papers’ readers are racist. This means that the dialogue needs to go beyond free speech and enter into the foray of ongoing Eurocentric and Christian domination of politics, media, and representation in Western nations.

How would the cartoonist(s) and publisher responds to the question, “what cultural socialization were these images informed by?” Is this a racist micro-aggressionor blatant macro-aggression in light of Denmark conservatives' historic racist identifications (or any Western nations' racist tendencies in light of the history of colonization, neo-colonialism and neo-liberalism). The easy escape is to claim freedom of speech, but one must answer to what cultural norms substantiate these types of cartoons, while other visual renderings of religious leaders are prohibited from publication.

Recalling Henri Giroux’s and Stanley Aronowitz’ qualifications of types of intellectual inquiry into the four categories of critical, hegemonic, accommodative, and transformative, these images fall into the hegemonic realm when placed within the social context of ongoing tensions between Western and Muslim nations. These images represent the dominant view of one culture over another, a majority over a minority within Denmark, and contribute to prejudiced cultural viewpoints of non-Muslims towards Muslims. Though the cartoonist(s) and publisher may not face accountability within their home nation, the caustic contribution they have made to ongoing cultural stereotypes, has come home to roost.

“Problems relating to the adjustment of non-democratic systems to the demands of modernization and democratization still present an important challenge in a number of Muslim countries in Asia, Africa and the Middle East. In fact, democracy, freedoms of expression, and freedom of the press are alien, and sometimes contested, terms to Muslim citizens in a variety of contexts.” (289)

In addition to this point made by the authors, what about the problems that the Danish community may have with Muslim culture’s presence in its nation? What type of conservativism exists there, and what fears do members of the Danish population exhibit towards Muslim and Middle Eastern communities? As much as we may be concerned about the reaction of Islamic extremists to these cartoons, we must also be concerned about sublime and quite obvious racist gestures in the form of such visual images. Not to challenge the ideas that are reflected in these cartoons makes members of the accommodative public corroborating witnesses with potentially racist ideology.

Collective Memory and Image Dissemination: The Humane Empathic Connection Cut by the Disruption of History

The comments in this entry are based upon the article “The Great Atomic Film Cover-Up” by Greg Mitchell

"In the weeks following the atomic attacks on Japan 64 years ago, and then for decades afterward, the United States engaged in airtight suppression of all film shot in Hiroshima and Nagasaki after the bombings. This included footage shot by U.S. military crews and Japanese newsreel teams. In addition, for many years, many newspaper photographs were seized or prohibited."

How much of our perception of history is affected by the immediate media distribution and public reception of images of traumatic atrocities associated with warfare? If we do not see it, is it invisible to us? If we have no way to bear witness to the murder, annihilation, or criminal trespass that is inherent in war, do we lose the ability to act conscientiously and preventatively towards any future acts of military violence? Greg Mitchell’s article discusses the government suppression of images of the nuclear attack on Japan and the extenuating public ignorance and subsequent apathy that resulted from hiding this film footage. It must be the case that our decision-making process about warfare and violence is influenced but what we see, and feel about what we see.

Nations worldwide spent the last fifty years in an arms race, without judging the impacts of the last potent use of nuclear arms during the US attack on Japan, then public ignorance has been used to the advantage of maintaining the military complex. The visual image in media represents our historical reference to events. With the onset of photography in print material, then through television broadcast and film, we have learned about the world through the images broadcast about important events.

We formed opinions about and against Vietnam as a result of seeing ongoing images of war, and the human harm resulting for the Vietnamese and for U.S soldiers. We acted against racism in the south because of key images of Birmingham police officers assaulting children with dogs and high-pressure fire-hose water. We give support to famine victims in countries because we see the suffering hunger and lack of water cause for emaciated children in these situations. Social awareness of global issues is intricately intertwined with the forms in which the news and history is communicated abroad—the image jumpstarts the heart. Empathy is intimately connected to seeing, judging, and then acting on what we have seen.

“But suppressing film footage shot in Hiroshima and Na

gasaki was even more significant, as this country rushed into the nuclear age with its citizens having neither a true understanding of the effects of the bomb on human beings, nor why the atomic attacks drew condemnation around the world.”

We, as U.S. citizens, never learned to feel what had happened, to take true responsibility for these events, or to have the knowledge to change our perspective towards nuclear arms. For Lt. Col Daniel McGovern to say, “We didn’t want the material out because...we were sorry for our sins”, it is also indicative that the public community never even had the opportunity to assess the sins committed, let alone feel regret or sorrow for the attack. In our present day the US government has placed strict controls over the dissemination of images related to the dual invasions of Iraq, whether it is Iraqi civilians or US soldiers harmed by attacks. Our sense of empathy and compassion is short-circuited if we do not know what is actually happening during war.

The sad and horrific thing is that these images are purposefully withheld, so that we cannot have a holistic emotional response to the harms suffered. In regards to Hiroshima and Nagasaki our government used these weapons, and effectively disregarded the impact atomic warfare had on the Japanese, US soldiers, and subsequent descendants of those affected. We also never saw evidence to have an empathic basis for questioning the morality of nuclear warfare based on its true impacts when used.

Eirk Barnouw, “author of landmark histories of film and broadcasting” addresses this when he states…

“I feel that classifying all of this filmed material was a misuse of the secrecy system since none of it had had any military or national security aspect at all…the reason must have been—that if the public had seen it and Congressmen had seen it—it would have been much harder to appropriate money for more bombs.”

The empire of the United States is very much governed by its military complex, and the acts of the military are exempt from public review and discussion. The extenuating question is, once we realize this, are we as implicitly involved in the suppression of transformative action as those who control the dissemination of information? As educators it is vital for us to critically read the images in history texts, and to search out those that have never made it to the front page of newspapers, let alone into the pages of a traditional history textbook. The publication of an image should be taught as a political act itself, especially when the intentions may be to spread propaganda supporting warfare or to suppress information about the impacts of warfare.

One organization that serves as a great resource for educators addressing such issues is “Facing History, Facing Ourselves.” Another, World Can’t Wait, is a leader of political actions and protests against US militarization, whether through warfare, military recruiting, or challenging US leadership in its decisions on the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan. This article by Greg Mitchell makes the reader wonder how much of our society is run as a democracy or as benevolent despotism. Teachers are the advocates for our children’s sense of empathy and awareness…we must make more available to see, so that real consideration and informed social action on issues can be continually catalyzed.