Diane Jakacki
Fichier
Edited Text
129SSIp ƏZÁrey
will learn sho
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In order to become more flexible and
with the balance of each issue devoted
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to articles, features, departments, art of
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Robin Michals Sabra Moore Faith Wilding
Ann Sperry Rose Weil
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Fr
Heresies 25
Clarissa T. Sligh
Kindergarten Class—
Graduation 1970
È
Alice Shapiro
The Art of Education
Janet Vicario
Blind History
Mira Schor
On Failure & Anonymity
Judith K. Brodsky
w N A u
Nancy Wells
E.A. Racette
Donna Evans
Tomie Arai
Sara Pasti
Women, Art, and
53
Lucy R. Lippard
Aesthetic Questions
53
Ruth Bass and
54
Eva Grudin
Tracy
Cross-Cultural Issues
Marsha Cummins
Why do they
crave the experience?
9
51
53
Women’s Wheel
The Spinning of the Top
10
Untitled
10
The Wonderful
African America: Images,
Ideas and Realities
New York City School
Judy Malloy
Nikki Herbst
11
12
No Potato Chips
Lynne Cohen
13
Classroom
Cricket Potash
14
Seize the Time
Joni Sternbach
14
From the Cameo series
Marie Cartier
17
Poem: A Manual for Survival
17
Elementary School Class
the Drop Ins
Carolien Stikker
How to Make
Carolien Stikker
18
Country Window/Broken
Other Nature
Rap Sheet
People of Color at
Carolien Stikker
Barbara A. St. John
58
Hannah Wilke
60
Victoria Garton
60
Pamela Shoemaker
They Lied
Denise Tuggle
63
Carolien Stikker
66
Sheila Pinkel
66
Valerie Sivilli
68
Karen J. Burstein
68
Sara Pasti
Window
19
20
Question Marks
20
Toward a Synthetic
Art Education
Dress
Sewing Class
The Reception
21
Father and General
21
A Timely Existence
21
72
Carol Clements
73
Amy Edgington
74
Emma Amos
Brother and Sister / White
and Company
Dress I / Statue Pointing /
Critics
Jill Pierce
27
Diane Pontius
28
Clarissa T. Sligh
29
29
Kristin Reed
Tomie Arai
32
33
Pm Tired of Being Angry
Beating the Odds
Socrates
Love Story
On Being an American Black Student
The Interview
Boys’
Care
Centerthe: Body
in
the Club
South Day
Bronx
Educating
Pamela Wye
Predominant Ideology Classroom 3
Classroom 4
Welcome to You See
35
Learn to Earn
The Final Call
36
Mary Sojourner
38
Nancy Wells
38
40
Janet Culbertson
49
49
Judite dos Santos
49
Joni Sternbach
49
Dawn Aotani
78
Rachel Vigier
78
Brahna Yassky
Diane Pontius
79
80
Joan Herbst Shapiro
82
Kabuya P. Bowens
Dangerous Discussions
Dominican Republic
84
What They Write About
in Other Countries
The Offering
I Met a Man Who
Untitled
Anonymous, C.C. Hamil-
86
Catherine Clarke
87
Letters to the Editor
Fences
89
Sallie McCorkle
90
Martha Reed Herbert
The Beginning of an
Untitled I
Signs/Signals
Untitled
Bone By Bone
Alex Stavitsky
ton, Barbara A. St. John
Staying Horrified
Classroom
91
Lynne Cohen
Beehive
92
E.A. Racette
Untitled
94
Joni Sternbach
96
Kate Millett
Madhouse Madhouse
INSIDE
50
Carol Wolfe Konek
Dear Professor Vile
Extraordinary Friendship
Heather Susan Haley
Leigh Kane and
83
Knows He Knows
47
Nancy Spero
76
Chinatown
34
Batya Weinbaum
75
Kids Playing at the Gramercy
Learning to Play
Carol Feiser Laque
Jerilea Zempel
61
62
White Elitist Colleges
The Library
Gail Draper
57
Poem for Dirty Boys
Brainhouse
Aisha Eshe
Joni Sternbach
an Excellent Teacher
An Open-Trench-Coat
in the Gaza Strip
Meryl Meisler and
Sophie Rivera/LNS
56
Fifth Grade
So Help Me Hannah
Deborah Willis
55
System
Untitled
Pig of Knowledge
The Secret
BACK
Claire Moore
COVER
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C
N e
eNe
T. Heresies education
collective came together at Rutgers University.
O.. collective developed a healthy respect for the many scholarly
Several years have passed since we began work-
journals we combed for interesting subjects,
ing together, and some of us are no longer con-
formats, and ideas. Scholars and theoreticians
nected with that (or any other) university. We
write articles that reflect their years of research.
will, however, always be involved with the proc-
University presses and associations (such as the
ess of learning and will never cease being students
and teachers.
College Art Association) provide an enormous
service by publishing this work. The women who
responded to our call for submissions, however,
] nitially we believed that
working on the Heresies education issue would
responded not with theoretical material but with
serve to clarify ideas we had about the neces-
personal accounts of their own experiences with
education — formal and otherwise. We found
sity (or lack thereof) of formal education and a
that many women responded from the view-
university degree. We were also curious to hear
point of having been miseducated (or myth-
about women’s experiences in other learning sit-
educated; it seems there are an abundance of
uations. Once the collective began to meet, it became clear that the matter of formal education
institutional horror stories to be told). But we
was a secondary one.
inspired and uplifted us. In our search for mate-
also received many stories about learning that
rial we discovered that if rote learning, final exams,
O: primary importance,
tenure hearings, lesson plans, and racial and sex-
it seemed, was the effect of education, both for-
ual exploitation are integral to the process of ed-
mal and informal. How have we, and all other
ucation, so are warmth, introspection, and per-
women, been formed into who we are? What
sonal exploration.
role models have we followed, what constraints
T. women who wrote
and freedoms have we been taught? How has
what we’ve been taught affected our dreams and
to us have insights and visions to share that might
expectations of what we can hope to achieve in
our lives? These are some of the questions that
not have found a place in the more “serious” publications. We desired to take our contributors se-
helped shape this issue of Heresies.
riously and become a platform for their voices.
SARA PASTI is a painter, printmaker, and arts organizer who lives and works in Brooklyn.
E.A. RACETTE is an artist and founder of Biophilic Activities Inc.
VALERI SIVILLI is a painter/printmaker/teacher/gardener who lives and works in Brooklyn, NY/Frenchtown, NJ.
Special thanks to Miriam Taylor.
E vp
sinat
i i ` ON
EFL re
ON
7
S/a
3 , AN
DI
Staff: Avis Lang, managing editor A/thea N. Davidson, administrative assistant A/pha Selene Anderson, intern
Design: Mary Sillman Typesetting: Kathie Brown and U.S. Lithograph, typographers
Editorial and Production Assistance: Laura Baird Sue Heinemann Lanie Lee Kate Panzer Risa Wallberg
Printed by Wickersham Printing Company, Inc., Lancaster, Pennsylvania
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I (The Beginning)
Sitting small so as to be unnoticed,
my stomach spoke in alternations
of pain and fear.
Ill (The End)
Looking back I wonder if the teacher saw
the anxious looks of dread
Out from under the thumbs of others,
and passed me by deliberately.
the search for who I was began.
Ah, Compassion, I honor thee.
Again and once again the repetition
of the school and its command
Publicity, it seems, was evidently
brought me back to recognition
the real root of agony,
of that fearful child.
and not the unknowingness of facts.
I acted out the same scenario, wasting time,
Apprehension of close attention to my self
until at last, leaning forward,
chased away the open exchange of ideas,
lifting the chains from my ankles
and I passed through schooltime
without a blink,
in a huge cocoon of self-made isolation.
I tossed them to the side.
II (The Middle)
IV (Epilogue)
Somehow (the magic oft all!) — a slit,
Yesterday I met a man.
a tiny crevice in the wrapping
His esoteric school, he chastened,
showed me wondrous worlds
stood for helping hands.
that needed to be known.
Even though, he hastened to reveal,
And only through participation
we must trust just ourselves,
could I move from plant to flower.
it cannot be done alone.
I reached and drank.
The moisture nourished my anorexic soul
and filled it not with facts,
but questions.
Still frail and stupid
from so many dark Decembers,
mistakes were plentiful,
and starting over came to be a trend.
Alice Shapiro has published poetry in Poetry Connoisseur (national anthology prizewinner), Assembling 13, and several anthology publications. Also a playwright, her
first work, Four Voices, was produced in 1988 and received the Bill C. Davis Drama Award.
Heresies 25
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Јапеѓ Уйсагќо ѓо ап агііаі сиггеп Ну іпеоіоед ийЬ тедќа рЬоѓодгарЬу. ЅЬе оед іп МУС апд іп Ње рамі ўїое уеаго Баа огдапіхед +Њоша нй РАОО.
ИЙ Тае]
Еаисайоп
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he most useful course
that an art school could
offer today would be one
spite the change in emphasis.
The basic fact of the artist's existence remains that no one asks
called “On Failure And Anonym-
you to do whatever it is that you
ity,” for these are the truest condi-
do, and just about no one cares
tions of the artist's life, all artists,
once you've done it. Art in our era
even the great and famous ones.
Art schools are graduating hundreds of MFAs, thousands of BFAs
a year; many of these graduates
is a self-generated activity, and the
marketplace is for most artists just
a transient delusion.
Which of these existences
have their eyes firmly fixed on the youthful fame and
should art schools prepare students for? The fantasy
financial success of a handful of exceptionally tal-
of a retrospective at a New York museum before the
ented, ambitious, and lucky men. In one generation
age of forty or the lifetime of art practice? The answer
art has come from being considered a financially mar-
some students give is distressing. A CalArts graduate
ginal occupation to being seriously thought of as a
presented a paper at a CAA conference some years
potential source of wealth. :
ago in which she blamed the school for not having
This view is encouraged by the present confusion
prepared her for the realities of the art market,
between the older values and romantic scenarios of
specifically for not having provided enough of a post-
“high” art and the contemporary art market, a confu-
graduate network of connections to help her market
family farm and agribusiness. The long becoming of
emphasis on networking and salesmanship is huck-
an artist, the lifelong search for meaningful form, is
sterism, self-commodification, packaging at the ex-
her work and herself. But the logical outcome of this
being interfered with by a huge influx of money and
pense of content. The art precipitated by this impera-
of media attention and influence. Artists are now pres-
tive to “make it” tends to be fast work that can be
sured by considerations and expectations of immedi-
sold easily and quickly. Even “angst” must be “lite.”
ate, youthful financial success, although the ratio
The transformative nature of artwork may be degraded
of such successes has not significantly altered de-
into the distillation of “Raw Hype” into ‘Pure Hype,”
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as depicted in a New Yorker cartoon.
In the last five years not a term has gone by without
a few, inevitably male, students bringing up how much
money art is selling for. Only once in a while has a
student, usually female, told me that she was in art
ommend it to anyone except to the artist for whom
there is no other choice.
However, some artists are ‘successful’ in the commercial sense. But that success may not come for
years, it probably will not last if it does come, and it
school to “find out what this painting thing was
has unforeseen consequences. No matter how imper-
about,” and, even more significantly, looked to me
vious the individual may feel to corruption, success
with some concern and asked if, being a woman artist, I had a “life”?
Problems particular to gender aside, yes, I have a
can corrupt, erasing past ideas and ideals. The earlier it comes the more likely that is. Success is never
enough; the need for more is insatiable. Success can
life. But the question is a crucial one. Expectations
lead to paranoia. Those young men everyone looks to
of glory veil the real life of the artist, and if being in
as examples are all obsessed with those who might
the studio is the priority, the life is difficult.
Let us consider first the more obvious and predictably difficult life of the artist who is not a financial
want to get at them, knock them down. Because of
their success they see themselves as targets, as indeed they had targeted the previous generation, for
success (that is to say, the majority of artists). This is
the link between progress/success and forms of patri-
a life of total insecurity. The artist is a pre-Columbian
cide is grafted into the belief structure of Western
sailor adrift on a flat ocean at whose edge is an abyss.
just past the point the rent money runs out. Jobs are
civilization. Success can be paralyzing; approval can
prevent change, because change risks the destruc-
boring, ill paying, distracting,
tion of the desired commodity.
and exhausting. Or a more seri-
Conversely, enforced, artificial
ous involvement with a “real” job
thrēatens the continuity and ultimately the continuation of artwork. The committed artist risks
being perennially broke, not to
say penniless, a bum in fact. To
be poor is to be infantilized in
a country where adulthood is
“change” can become the commodity. Praise can be as intimidating as criticism. Both equally
disturb the ecology of the life of
the studio.
Real success is the ability to
continue making art that is alive.
For this the artist has to be edu-
equated with financial indepen-
cated to another set of values and
dence. This life is grueling, ego
a broader scope. Yet art schools
battering, embittering, filled
underemphasize practical skills,
with deprivation. I do not rec-
liberal arts courses, and, worse
IANA
Education
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yet, even their art history courses are often insufficient
paths that are taken. Life continues only as long as
and cursory.
the blind chase down the path. There is tremendous
To survive the long run, to continue to function,
fear on that chase because the relationship between
someone ought to tell you that there is a long run. To
artist and artwork is one of intimacy with the self,
survive, it is necessary to stand for something within
and intimacy is truly terrifying and can never be fully
yourself and yet to always doubt your own deepest
achieved. The closer one comes to something really
beliefs. It is necessary to have the agglomeration of
intimate (which may seem really foreign), the faster
terrors and hopes, delights, and doubts that make up
one springs back, and thereby fails.
a soul. Perhaps a soul is culturally bound and determined, but it can be more than a slave to fashion.
espite the fear of intimacy and the impos-
Follow fashion and be fifteen minutes late. Trends
sibility of achieving completeness within
are fleeting. A lifetime of art cannot be built on a
and without, there can be a wonderful
weather vane.
sense of anonymity in the practice of art. As at a noisy
Real failure comes to those who accept their status
flea market, sometimes a silence and a slowness can
quo, who do not press against their limitations. This
overcome the busyness, and then small, insignificant
seems to happen more or less to almost all artists, at
treasures become distinct. In these moments you know
some point down the path. The artist is an organism,
no one and are no one. A friend of mine describes in
genetically condemned to atrophy and death as all
terms of reverence and sexuality the rags she wears
living organisms are. Only the persistence of dissat-
when she paints. Every layer discarded and replaced
isfaction and struggle ensure a
by street clothes is an added layer
true form of success in the life of
of anxiety and loss of intimacy
the artist.
with her self.
The life of the work, the ecol-
The greatest thing an art school
ogy of the studio is what | am in-
could give a student is access to
terested in, when the doors are
this anonymous life of the studio,
closed on the pressures of the
recognition of its supreme impor-
marketplace. And in this life there
tance to the inner survival of the
is always failure, no matter how
artist, and to the creation of mean-
much money is made. For it is a
ingful art that transcends fashion
and money. X
given that there is always a gap
between what the artist wants the
work to be and what it is, between
Mira Schor, a painter living in New York,
is coeditor of ME/A/N/Y/N/G, a jour-
the original goal and the weird
nal of contemporary art.
Nancy Wells
Heresies 25
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: E. A. RACETTE
In third grade there was one bad boy named James
He gave the nun the finger, the bird, flipped her off,
or whatever term you know for that hand signal that means fuck.
She was soooo upset! and obvi i
viously excited. She went and told
the other nun and they both, together, made each of us children
individually, by ourselves, come out into the hall and describe to them
what the sign meant!!! and they kept asking for more details.
I don’t know what the other«children said. I said it's when two grown
people take off all their clothes, and they said, “YESSSSSS ...???
o..
AND ...???”
And they put their bodies together, I said. Iwas so shy
and nervous and I felt that I wasn’t supposed to know so I felt
shame because I knew. They were so insistent on my describing it.
Now I am imagining how wet their sweet little cunts must have been that day.
<> > M a A A A i iA i i A A a R a A
Donna J. Evans is a printmaker-cartoonist-painter-bookmaker. She wads born in Dayton, Ohio, in 1956 and
moved to NYC in 1984.
The Art of
Education
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Fifth Grade
On the wooden floor
NIKKI HERBST
plaster-of-Paris bust of
Katherine Karr drew the
GREAT LAKES
in white chalk so she could
ETCH the image
and it SMASHED
on the floor
right next to Buzzy Olsen.
in their minds.
Lake Erie had little whitecaps
where she'd hit the floor
I can't remember
repeatedly
if he'd been asleep, noisy, or stupid
during her lecture.
he was
so often
I felt her anger as she jumped
from a chair
to STOMP a verb-with-no-object into them
landing BANG on old-lady black shoes:
JUMP!
She worked, climbing from the Great Lakes
ASLEEP, NOISY, or STUPID
and no one knew
if she'd missed on purpose
so it worked
for AWHILE to keep
their attention.
to the chair top
again, BANG,
and again, BANG:
JUMP!
I went in early and stayed late
and she şnapped at me:
THERE'S NOTHING FOR YOU HERE
well, take this
She was dry and thin but
she could land
HARD: NOW,
who can tell me what kind of verb
'jump'
is? While the others laughed
and READ it.
I read THE AGONY AND THE ECSTASY
right there in class
while she tried to teach them
arithmetic, geography, and social studies
jumping, throwing, and shouting.
or stared open-mouthed
I squirmed
wanting to SHAKE them.
I loved her.
Later there were other books she gave me:
read THIS.
But they also meant:
don't raise your hand to answer in class
She put us in rows: you are
the HAVES, you are
the HAVE-NOTS.
She didn't have patience for niceties:
or the others will never try.
They also meant:
I'm sorry.
I ACCEPTED
these two rows are the
the whole message
bluebirds and the rest of you
tucked inside the book bribes.
are the redbirds.
She had to teach the SIMPLEST THINGS
to those who'd been
nicely lied to
for years already.
After the first quarter
I took my
report card with my
FIRST EVER GOOD GRADE IN CITIZENSHIP
and jammed it
She apologized
for neglecting us haves
at my fourth grade teacher's FACE
as I passed her in the hall
but she never said I'm sorry
or at least
when she threw
that's what I remember.
the gold-painted
I was TRIUMPHANT.
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e و
eevee
Heresies 25
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Lately the names and images of special
kids have started coming back to me from
my fifteen years as an elementary school
teacher. Some days | wake up with an urgent need to get to school, to get on with
the work. Some days | wake up with a
warm feeling as if I've made contact with
“my kids” for the first time, a glow of rec-
ognition and accomplishment like an enthusiastic hug. Often | see the kids or their
parents in my dreams: Leticia with her long
black braids so tight they gave her almondshaped eyes; Jesus with his starched,
CRICKET POTASH
ironed white shirt daily, accompanied by
his mother always in a black shawl; Jimmy
and his mom waiting in the yard; Jose's
father coming in the door with the cardboard shoe he'd made.
My first year as a teacher was 1969. |
Angeles because | knew some Spanish:
;At the time Spanish wasn't needed
for the job, even though most of the kids
had never spoken anything else. Technically a barrio is a neighborhood, though
the word is often used as a synonym for
ghetto. Even now in the late 1980s East
Los Angeles has the largest Spanishspeaking population outside Mexico City.
In 1969 we were part of the last wave of
teachers hired in a teacher shortage.
In many ways conditions have never
been so wonderful for teachers in the public schools as they were then. The 1970s
were years today’s teachers can only imagine, especially if they teach in inner-city
schools. We had money for materials and
training from many federal titles: compensatory education, bilingual education, sex
equity, and so on. We were to/d to be innovative, to develop our own curricula. We
were rewarded for involving community
volunteers; we were encouraged to develop
learning continuums, to hold parent conferences instead of reducing a child’s
learning mastery to a single letter or number. | rejoice that | never häd to fill our a
report card until the e i of my career.
I hurried through my teaching years.
Many things that happened didn't really
experience at the time. Now%they seem
Joni Sternbach
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to be floating right on the surface of my
memory. | reach in and there they are,
and to see it displayed.
Daily we sang, in Spanish, the song'‘tfläi
encapsulated, wrapped in wonderful iri-
was the shoe's inspiration. This short fit
descent globes, ready to be taken out and
song—“El Zapatero (The Shoemaker)” —
examined.
I had had to abruptly leave the class-
proved to be a favorite. The lyrics and a
translation (not lyrical) follow:
room—a profession, an identity, and a
community in which I had invested fifteen
EL ZAPATERO
Yo lo dije al zapatero
acute exacerbation of multiple sclerosis,
a disease | knew I had but which had produced no symptoms in me for over ten
years. Suddenly, bumping into walls and
not being able to stand for more than five
minutes, worrying about falling down the
que me hiciera unos zapatos
con el piquito redondo,
como tienen los patos.
¡Malhaya zapatero!
Como me engano!
Me hizo los zapatos
stairs more than the kids getting out safely
y el piquito no!
during a fire drill, not being able to quickly
get to the kid who had split his lip to com-
fort him, I was forced to face my need to
leave teaching. Now | have more time to
remember those years.
One memory: the cardboard-and-construction-paper shoe Jose's father made
for us, an exact copy of a sturdy walking
shoe, probably the size that would have fit
his seven-year-old son. I accepted it with
“mil gracias,” a thousand thanks, and a
THE SHOEMAKER
I told the shoemaker
to make me some shoes
with a tip as round
as a duck's beak.
That darn shoemaker!
How he tricked me!
He made the shoes but
Not the tip! s
P”
E7
my working table, where the children
four
would see it when they came to work with
Piquito means little beak as well as tip.
me. Now it's on a shelf above my desk.
Jose's father made his shoe with a won-
It’s faded and has been mended several
derful bird's beak.
times in its travels—the colours were
bright when | first saw it. The body is made
For me, the first three years of teaching
from a heavy brown supermarket bag, the
were the hardest. | learned to juggle the
heel and sole made of cardboard finished
hundreds of small, slippery balls that were
off smoothly, like slick new soles. Bright
aspects of my profession: schedules,
green satin wrapping ribbon decorates
meetings, spitballs, parent conferences,
candy addiction, test anxieties (theirs and
mine) fist fights, and outright defiance. |
fringed section of purple construction
learned basic control techniques as well
paper that holds the laces and gracefully
as my own limitations—just how many
ends in e/ piquito, the head and beak of
reading groups | could keep track of and
a bird. There are also upside-down horse-
how much homework I would look at. The
shoes on the ankles, cut out of bright
week I had yard duty was especially chal-
multicolored wrapping paper. The top lace
lenging. I couldn't do any set-up or relax
hole, carefully punched, holds a small
with a cup of coffee or go to the bathroom |
name tag with the artist's spelling of his
while the kids were out at recess. It be- a Nu
name, “Joze.” | try to imagine what it
came almost Pavlovian to respond to bels.
meant to Jose, an illiterate itinerant worker,
Even today | find myself sort of waiting for. Pp
to make this for his son to take to school
something at 11:30 a.m.—it's time for the
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C
lunch bell. I learned to extend my authority from my person (5' 3” tall and parked
dance as they spun their chrysalises. The
class clown held his breath along with the
near the lunch benches) to the far kickball
rest of us as the furry caterpillars sealed
diamond without shouting or running after,
themselves into their temporary changing
for example, the culprit with the matches. rooms. 1,
I learned to be larger than life, to have eyes The next two weeks were filled with in- $
everywhere and ears, too. How else could
I have learned those Spanish curses my
classroom was quickly converted into a
me? $
covered the walls with drawings ahd
scaled-down mission control centeriWe
loved all the learning I did during those
diagrams. What we had seen, what we
yeéärsrT was wide open to finding out who
guessed was going to happen, and what
these small people were, anxious to give
we had learned as fact. The chart rack
them the love and respect I felt I had been
carried daily bulletins; the science table
deprived of during my school years. |
held the jars of twigs with their strange
learned how much a seven-year-old knows
translucent leaves, the chrysalises. We
and how much a seven-year-old wants to
crossed off days on the calendar, read
know. I learned how easily, how quickly
what we recorded, drew pictures of what
their curiosity about the unknown and their
we saw. We used as many books as | could
tender confidence when they've learned
find to learn who these creatures were,
something new can be squelched with a
what would happen next.
harsh glance or an unjust rule.
I had a wonderful time learning with my
The class made predictions, developed
theories. Which one would come out first,
classes—keeping a Spanish/English dic-
what would it look like, would it be a but-
tionary at hand, right next to the Pequeño
terfly or “only” a moth? There was always
Larousse lllustrado with its encyclopedic
a team of at least two observers letting ev-
information and beautiful color illustra- =%
eryone know about any changes. Tu
# È tions. The Larousse was invaluable. How
This went on until one day during read- www
& fve else would we have known which dino- ; sx ing there was a silent movement noticed k seven
saur was which, or what to call webbed
by the observation team. A change of col-
feet in Spanish and how to distinguish
or that had been noticed yesterday was
them from talons? Or colors? Red, blue,
interesting—this was exciting.
and yellow simply weren't enough to name
the deep reddish-purple of Anna's jacket
Everything in the regular schedule%
stopped. No one cared if it wäStheir turn
or the shimmering green on the ducks in
to play handball. The kickball äiamond
the park.
was empty. There was no screaming, sfíov-
I learned to seize the time and teach
ing line at the water fountai
The, entire:
from what was happening. Like the day
class stayed in at recess to s
my class went out for their afternoon re-
happen next. We took the lids off the wide”
cess and found hundreds of woolly black
what would.»
mouthed jars and opened the trañsoms
caterpillars on the ground outside our tem-
in anticipation of the exodüs."©nçe again ø
porary bungalow. The fuzzy creatures
we all held our breath. Very slowly tħé
rained down from the mulberry trees, and
wet-winged newborns emerged. They
I think the girls jumping rope were first to
paused a moment to open and flex their
notice them as the ground got slickery
wings, then blew out of the room like tis-
under their feet. The cafeteria workers
sue paper scraps. One child, transfixed
scrounged some large empty mayonnaise
by the metamorphoses, asked in a whis-
jars for us. We collected leaves from the
per, “But ... where did they come from,
trees and twigs for the caterpillars to use
Teacher?" X
as anchors, then spent the rest of the afCricket Potash is an artiøst living in Los Angeles.
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EEE
P o e m
Write a poem beginning with “I want.”
MARIE CARTIER
and your bus driver
Write a poem about being in a room
in second grade
where everything is your favorite color
or your local drug pusher in tenth
and what you do there.
or your college admissions clerk
Write a poem about musical notes
or your first good English teacher.
that talk to you.
Then write a poem in appreciation
Write a poem about whether or not you were
of your own voice.
breast-fed and how that feels.
Write a poem meant to be sung.
Write a poem about your favorite fairy tale
Praise Bessie Smith in it.
and why.
Write a poem meant to be whispered.
Write a poem using five words
Praise Daniel Berrigan in it.
that describe your perfect mother.
Write a poem meant to be screamed.
Write a poem using five words
Praise Patti Smith in it.
that describe your perfect father.
Write a poem about being black (if you're white).
Write a poem about mothers and fathers.
Praise Angela Davis in it.
Write a poem about turning eleven
Write a poem about being white (if you're black).
and twenty-one
Praise Bobby Kennedy in it.
and what your initial thoughts were
Write a poem about being poor (if you have money).
on leaving decades behind.
Praise Caesar Chavez in it.
Write a poem that would solve the
Write a poem about being rich (if you have no money).
problems of the world
Praise Eleanor Roosevelt in it.
if everyone read it.
Write a poem about missing the city (if you're from the country).
Write a poem about candlelight, wine,
Praise neon lights in it.
soft music — alone.
Write a poem about missing the country (if you're from the city).
Write using your favorite part of your body
Praise a cornfield in it.
as the voice.
Write a poem about writing a poem
Write in the voice of your favorite musician
about writing a poem about writing a poem.
your best lover
Then write your poem.
your first-grade teacher
Praise yourself in it.
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Windows
We made a window with all really great stories, but
My friend told me to go back down the block. His sister
I have to admit mine was the best. I’m not trying to
was upset, his friends and everybody in his family were
be conceited or anything, but I just had to tell you
the truth.
very depressed.
I can tell you a lot about Lakisha Owens. She is nice,
My feelings about the story about Michael is that it was
a very sad thing that happened. He was shot, and I ran
down my block to see what was going on and everybody
was telling me that Michael was shot. I looked and I saw
blood dripping down from his neck. I was throwing up.
self-centered. She is fourteen years old. She can be very
quiet sometimes, but when she is mad it’s best that you
shouldn’t say nothing to her. She is very bashful sometimes. But Lakisha is very nice in her artwork, and she
has a little talent in her writing.
Lakisha Owens December 11, 1989
The Art of
Education
== 18
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» 9
(ye y ) s
-A
i ri
ME?
Question Ty
We, Meryl Meisler and the Drop Ins, did the Question
Marks. We took a lot of photographs to show people that
1.S. 291 was never built right and is all messed up and
dirty. We wrote short stories to go with the pictures. It
was a lot of fun doing the Question Marks. If it wasn’t
a KaR
for Ms. Meisler, we never would have had the chance to
question what was wrong with our school.
I, Lucy Gonzalez, am 5'7", chubby and light-skinned, with
in I.S. 291 for four years. I was left back because I failed
two major subjects—math and science— so I didn’t graduate. I am happy because I got Ms. Meisler again, three
yeafs straight. I love Ms. Meisler’s class because I learn
a lot of things with cameras and we take pictures.
Lucy Gonzalez November 27, 1989
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was the recipient of a 1989 New York Foundation for the Arts fellowship. Her a
work has recently been published in Aperture.
“Marilyn this looks just like a rág”
and threw it on the closet floor
Na oset
A
The Art of
Education
e A
' <
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: Viia x.
Carolien stikkor
Father and General, 1986, photograph.
Over the past few years we have watched many of the reputedly ‘‘progressive’” schools succumb to the pressure of
the back-to-basics movement. They now offer enriched white bread, but white bread just the same. The
“open classroom,” a catchall term for experimental and innovative education, is becoming known as the failure of the
overpermissive sixties. Many of the educational principles of discovery and respect are being lost. So four
years ago we opened a school to confront this trend. The following is a distillation of the process of creating
a responsive curriculum that emerges from the needs and interests of the school community.
Children are seekers, trying to make sense of the
world. In creating a curriculum, my most important task
is to engage their imagination. At the root of reading,
writing, math, and science is the imagination being applied to physical and spiritual experience. lf it seems
possible to make sense of the world, children will want
to become competent in the means of communication
by society.
So I outward
begin with
care aboutmeanp.
wi offered
paper deeply.
We work
fromwhat
whatthey
is internally
pen
ingful to the disciplines and tools of thought, expres-
Heresies 25
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Chanukah story, scouring the book for images. With
very little guidance they devised both the more universal symbols of Judaica (menorahs, stars of David, latkes) and their own idiosyncratic ones, such as “the
wife of a Maccabee.”
T'he students are also asked to use and interpret symbols. This may or may not include words. Recipes, for
instance, are written in a combination of words and
pictures. A series of craft books are available with sequenced picture instructions that the children translate into cars, boats, monsters, and castles. Familiar
signs are an opportunity to include print and enhance
their sense that they can learn to read. The children
are indeed using a much broader range of cues to interpret print, including color, shape, configuration, and
script. A very young reader soon learns to distinguish
STOP and EXIT signs, as well as A & P's, and most assuredly, McDonald's.
At Rosh Hashanah a visitor came to share some of
the meaning and ritual of the holiday. After | reassured
him that the children had become familiar with the
idea of human sacrifice during our study of the Aztecs,
he decided to tell them the story of Abraham and his
son. He emphasized that God was teaching the world
sion, and relationship. The curriculum evolves differently
each year based on shared passions, tragedies, and
routines.
that the taking of human life was not required as homage, and that at that time in history, animal sacrifice
was taking the place of human sacrifice. “Oh, that's
"m
LANGUAGE ARTS
It is hard to isolate a language arts program and assign it to a particular time of day, or to think of it as a
just like in ‘Snow White,
piped up one girl. There was
a puzzled pause.
“What do you mean?” he finally asked us.
“Well, the hunter kills a pig instead of Snow White
collection of rules regarding verb agreement and de-
and then takes its heart back to the queen,” answered
pendent versus independent clauses. Embedded
the girl. | was floored by her grasp of what was
among the rules of grammar and syntax is a deep struc-
significant in this story, and how it pertained to an-
ture of content. The meaning behind the form is what
other. This is no less than a fledgling study of compar-
we want to express for ourselves and communicate to
ative literature, the formal discipline in which plots and
others. Two-year-olds speak in this deep structure of
themes are compared and contrasted from one story
meaning—using nouns and verbs. Then they learn to
to the next.
elaborate and refine shades of meaning and finally to
Contrasts themselves can be instructive in a curric-
conform to formal standards of language, the surface
ulum where values are also the subject of analysis.
structure. At heart, language and its written represen-
This year we read a black American folk tale about
tation are symbols, which both express and shape
Flossie and the fox. Before long it became obvious to
thought.
us all that this was a variation of “Little Red Riding
By five, children can exercise symbolic thought in a
variety of ways. They are asked to create symbols to
represent their experience or understanding. Perhaps
Hood.” What was interesting to me, in my battle to find
ways to make children conscious of the sexism embedded in our culture, was the fact that in this story,
memories of a field trip or pictures to illustrate an oral
Flossie outwits the fox! She is clearly capable of taking
story will activate these symbols. Once the class made
care of herself: intervention on the part of a heroic wood-
lotto boards based on a fairly complex version of the
cutter was entirely unnecessary. Given the opportunity,
T Nao)
N
Education
N
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the children were able to describe this distinction and
fessed, “I remember pumpkin because | use an or-
thereby call it into consciousness.
ange pen.”
MATHEMATICS
Reading, like other language skills, begins with what
is made most meaningful to children. Because differ-
In math itis necessary to develop a deep tactile knowl-
ent kids think in different ways, we can offer and be
edge of mathematical principles. Using three-dimen-
aware of a variety of methods that will be more or
sional objects allows the children to handle the “stuff”
less appropriate for a given child. | primarily use a
of numbers. We group things and discover how they
method that reflects the holistic thinking of most five-
fall into patterns and hold certain properties in com-
year-olds, as opposed to the more analytical thought
mon. The recognition of patterns is a foundation not
required for, say, a phonics approach.
only of math but also of reading, language, science,
music, and movement. In linking these various mani-
I help them begin to read with key words: each word
festations of pattern and rhythm, we are again cultivat-
is chosen by a child for its personal significance. They
ing flexibility, which lies at the heart of creativity.
choose such words as 7yrannosaurus rex, pumpkin,
Math offers its own perspective on the world. There
ice skater, scuba diver, crystal. Among the key words
are numerical relationships in the repeating pattern of
there is hardly one word from the Dolch Word List of
a design, the symmetry of a snowflake, the rhythm of
words most common in the English language. In the
beginning they use a whole constellation of cues to
identify a word—its length, its initial letter, a mental
F
music, and the spiraling spines of a pine cone. These
F schoolmate
patterns, represented by claps and snaps, numbers,
140
and letters in the kindergarten, will become patterned
sequences of numbers. Still later it will be learned that
the sequences can be generated by formulas and represented graphically by rose curves and parabolas.
It is important first to engage the children’s imagination in the materials and create as many opportunities for discovery as possible. To allow the kids to involve themselves with the materials, | arrange a time
for free exploration of what are intended as the “math
manipulatives.”
Building blocks offer a physical knowledge of proportion, balance, geometry, and the relationship of
parts to wholes. On the table might be a basket of
smaller pattern blocks—diamonds, hexagons, triangles,
squares, and trapezoids proportionate to one another.
Though two-dimensional block designs are nearby, the
children are left to use the pieces as they choose. They
discover they can build on a flat surface or that the
pieces can be stood on edge to build towers of questionable stability.
Sometimes my role is to bite my tongue. For several
days the kids had been exploring how high they could
build their towers. My first impulse was to “expand their
knowledge” by blurting out that triangles make very
stable bases. I checked myself and asked if they could
find a more stable base. With that aim in mind, a plethora of new techniques evolved. Instead of using the
precarious narrow edge, the children began alternating “floors” and “walls” to create high rises, or stacking
the pieces horizontally on their broad sides, making for
sturdier but shorter zigzagging piles. In the end they
Carolien Stikker White Dress I, 1986, photograph.
N
Heresies 25
wW
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knowledge of the world. So we begin with their knowledge of the world, and cultivate the tools for analyzing
it through mathematics.
Measuring is a mathematical tool taught to the children early in the program. We use the length of feet and
hands as a standard measurement, creating a context
for discovering the need of a more objective standard.
We compare heights. We graph temperatures as a comparison of the lengths of the mercury measured each
day. We count down to find the days remaining until
Halloween; we count up to see how many people were
born in the year of the dog.
Graphing offers another way to organize information
and call attention to aspects that might otherwise be
overlooked. For instance, the pet chart quantified which
pets were most likely to be found in the home of a
kindergartener. At the same time the children shared
what animals were important to them. The discussion
surrounding the chart evolved into Pet Week, during
which we met many of the animals represented on the
graph. This math lesson also allowed us to be of comfort to a sad and subdued boy when his dog, now familiar to us all, died later in the year.
PHYSICAL SCIENCES
In the sciences | am again less concerned with imparting a specific body of knowledge than with helping
discovered a variety of aspects of height, balance, and
the children develop a way of thinking, namely what
we call scientific method. | introduce the elements of
stability.
There was a progression during the year from mis-
inquiry and testing and try to create situations that
cellaneous piles to designs and entire scenes that took
challenge the children’s newly forming ideas about
into account the geometric properties of and relation-
cause and effect. What is a reasonable test? What do
ships among pieces. One girl envisioned an entire fair,
combining flat and three-dimensional constructions to
we accept as proof?
The day we tackled melting, I asked the five-year-olds
fashion a haunted house and a pleasantly abstract
to predict what they thought might melt. Prediction cre-
merry-go-round. Certain days inspired outdoor scenes,
ated the opportunity for dissonance. Predicting required
with a tray as backdrop for flowers growing amid grass
them to accommodate what they thought would hap-
and butterflies. Once they’d fully explored the possibil-
pen to what did happen and to ponder why this was
ities and had a working knowledge of the pieces, I found
so. We tried ice, butter, crayons, wax, and cinnamon.
I could limit or refine what they did in order to enhance
Questions and opportunities for predictions arose along
their explorations, and they accepted my suggestions
the way. Which will melt faster? Why? Which will solid-
willingly.
ify away from the heat? Which will stay melted? What
Math has its own symbolic language. We must allow
the kids to become conversant with mathematical principles, draw them, and then write them, using the
other changes occurred as well? This excited further
curiosity, experimentation, and observation.
Most gratifying is the evidence that the methodology
“alphabet” of mathematical sentencing and graphing.
has been internalized and can be applied spontane-
Mathematics compares, quantifies, and orders our
ously. Suddenly the rice and bean table, a fixture in the
The Art of
Education
— 24
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room all year, became the basis for experiments. “I
to, well, a life-style of their own choosing. The children
want to add water to some rice and beans and see
have been slow to grant this at times.
what happens.” This girl’s enthusiasm spread until sev-
Another example is the magic wand. One little girl
eral children had cups of rice, beans, and water. The
brought in a blue plastic “magic wand,” which she in-
diversity of their observations made for a rich overall
vested with the power to make wishes, both good and
picture. One child noted what floated and what sank,
bad, come true. Her classmates seemed to accept this.
another observed that the skins of the beans eventu-
An otherworldliness crept into her voice whenever she
ally lifted and peeled. The first girl paid attention to the
spoke of the wand. Several days later at rest time she
changes in the color and odor of the water. By the next
left the room briefly. In her absence the others began
morning we all found out that the combination creates
to question her verity.
molds if left overnight! In science the idea of mistakes
“It’s not rea//y a magic wand.”
is most easily eradicated because it is the so-called
“I know, but she won't listen.”
mistakes that teach us so much. The kids accept and
“It came with a My Little Pony!”
view them positively as experiments, not errors.
When she returned to the room they felt it their responsibility to confront her with Reality. She held firm,
SOCIAL SCIENCES
and it was then | intervened. | neither upheld nor denied the magic of the wand. That was not the point. |
Perhaps the area | find most compelling is the social
did affirm her right to believe. She did not have to prove
sciences. Development is indicated by growth in em-
her faith to them, nor did they need to disprove her to
pathy, respect, historical knowledge, and refined judg-
justify their own beliefs. | trust that she will not always
ment. Children at this age are increasingly able to put
invest blue plastic with superhuman power, but I don't
themselves in another's shoes and must be challenged
want to inhibit the part of her that believes in a spiritu-
to do so. Empathy and concern must be valued within
ality beyond the physical. And I want all the children
the fiber of the classroom. Animals and insects have
played a major role in the kindergarten. Much of our
ofkeacher
discussion has circled around their dignity and rights
to be able to trust their own judgment and not feel
threatened by the existence of other beliefs. This is her
seed of faith, and as in many new religions, spiritual
strength is ascribed to an icon. It may not seem that a
My Little Pony wand has a lot of social relevance, but it
is just such small yet significant events that can reflect
values and reveal issues basic to human experience.
Another issue that came up was the concept of war.
The group was typically polarized, boys versus girls,
until they were forced to contend with a common foe
—the first/second graders. Among themselves they
began to refer to this class as the Rats, implementing a time-tested method to dehumanize the enemy.
I applauded their cooperation with one another. But
I sadly recognized that, as is so typical with humans, it
was borne of the desire to be against someone or
something else. Did they know what I was talking about?
There were several nods. I pointed out that they would
be living with those kids for perhaps five or six more
years, and we could not afford to be at war with them.
We briefly discussed the upcoming summit between
world leaders and decided it was time for a treaty of
our own. We wrote a lit of grievances, a plea to “stop
the warring,” and a suggested resolution. It was signed
by all and sent to the first/second grade. This impressed
the first/second grade, and they took up the concerns
of the kindergarteners seriously. They came up with
Heresies 25
mi
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their own list of rules for outside. Then we came together to exchange treaties and song. It was no cureall; there are still problems of intimidation. But it was
an important process in the search for alternatives in
I know these children will be introduced to much of
the mainstream through TV, books, and commercialization. So | tend to focus on the forgotten, omitted,
and intentionally distorted histories of our planet.
dealing with conflict.
It distresses me that we withhold or even lie to children in the name of protecting them from the “real
world.” People often create an aura of innocence around
We spent most of November confronting the stereotype of the wild Indian. By Thanksgiving | was pleased
with how much they'd absorbed when they told the
children and believe the preservation of this innocence
story back to me. But because these stories are some-
will rid the world of its ills. But there is nothing more
times in such conflict with what they've been led to
disillusioning than to discover that the fairy-tale world
we've encouraged them to construct exists nowhere.
We should protect children with honest information and
by installing hope and faith in their ability to act and
change their world. And there is no preservation of
innocence; our culture—good and bad—is too embedded in a child’s every experience. If we don't provide explanations and cultivate awareness, we are
condemning them to perpetuate both the virtues and
the evils of our history.
believe, even at five, they must be introduced and repeated in numerous ways. When a Native American
woman from the Speaker's Bureau came in January,
they were again doing a reality check. In one of their
thank-you's, a boy asked her, “Did the white people
really steal all the land from the Indians?”
I do not mean to destroy their love for their homeland. It was hard to accept that the army had traded
smallpox-infected blankets to a tribe with the intention
that they would all get sick and die. One boy commented, “Yeah, but they only did that once, right?” They
so want to believe in their country, and they should. To
me, patriotism requires looking honestly at our actions
and condemning those acts that threaten our nation's
professed ideals. We also fortify the children by studying the tradition of resistance, not the injustices alone.
We learn how this resistance was embodied in the lives
of Harriet Tubman, Susan B. Anthony, Martin Luther
King, Jr., and Malcolm X.
Finally, I am asking the five-year-olds to make a judgment on the basis of empathy, respect, and fact. I can't
deny my influence, that of their parents, the toy manufactures, and the media. However, we must provide
opportunities for the kids themselves to exercise their
ability to assess what is fair, what is right.
These ideas may be old, but I am saying them again.
Revisionist educators would have us return to the methods and mythology of the “idyllic” one-room schoolhouse, the drilling of basic skills through rote recitation.
They would have us believe that a highly structured,
3-R's program is sufficient to meet the complexities of
the lives of today’s children. | beg to differ. It does not
equip a child emotionally or cognitively; it does not respect the child. Though the structure appropriate for a
given child will vary, it must not be adjusted at the expense of creativity, discovery, and dignity. X
Gail Draper is currently teaching kindergarten in Los Angeles
at the Oaks School, a private progressive school she helped found
four years ago.
The Art of
Education
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JWL PIERCE
And I yelled
l am using the right film
So don't give me your goddamn attitude M
l am tired of being angry
I said
And don't tell me I am doing it the wrong way y
because it's true
I get consumed with anger and cannot work
because it takes me over
and I didt come to this fucking school
' <
And I said to the man at the photo store
I would like to take a look at that Bolex—how much does it cost?
And he said $200 ,
And I said p
That is an incredibly low price for a Bolex
ging this place and not get any of my
pend
I would like to shoot a roll and get it developed to see if there is
anything wrong with the camera
And I went back the next week with my film P
to shoot a roll
And he said
That's not a 16mm camera, honey < 4 s
that's a super-8 camera
We have got to keep fighting
And I said to them À
the Women's Film/Photo/Video Collective
27
is not a place for people to come and
expect help because they don't know what they are doing
itis a place for women to feel like they are not crazy because
they come into this goddamn building and immediately have to leave
because the air is so thick with hostility
that you can't breathe
and I am tired of feeling like a crazy person
come and take a look at it?
because no one will answer my questions and
I begin to feel invisible
And I vowed to carry hedging shears with me every time I went into the
film building
and she said b
“Bitches rule:"
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Ilove you too, Mom. Diane : That's a lot of love.
I love trees. I love all I didn't know you had
the trees in the world. that much love in you.
Lilly: Ya, for real. Lilly: Mom, I fellin love Diane : You did? Did you fall
I do, for real. with John. in love with me?
I love you, but I didn t
fall in love with you.
But, know what? ...
I fell in love with Dad.
1n N (o)
Setif
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was a twenty-year-old black girl. It
blonde hair and blue eyes. She smiled
heard the entire question. I knew I was
was spring in New York City. I had
and said, “Come in. You're just in time.”
in trouble. My mind began to flash news-
traveled by bus from southern Vir-
There were several rooms. Leading me
paper headlines. I racked my brain trying
ginia. The colors were grey—the sky, the
into one of them she said, “Make your-
to piece together a coherent stream of
buildings, the sidewalks, the trees. It was
self comfortable,” then left and returned
ideas. None would come. Despite pa-
Sunday morning. Only a few people
with a guy who was also about my age.
tient smiles, their eyes told me my per-
were on the streets. I hoped I wouldn't
She told me his name and said they
formance was disappointing. Their reali-
get lost. My knuckles and jaws were
would interview me together for the in-
ty was not mine. I could not debate or
tight.
ternational college student program.
discuss it. We clumsily made a few more
Their smiles did nothing to allay my fear
nonconnecting exchanges before I went
I knocked on a door inside a small
but well-kept midtown hotel. A young
woman not much older than me peeped
out. Thin and plain-looking, she had
or my nervous stomach.
“What is your opinion on AmericanRussian policy—?” they began. I never
29
back to the streets of Manhattan.
Anger and disappointment welled up.
I walked in a daze. I had traveled ten
Heresies 25
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hours to get there. In five minutes I
looked forward to attending elementary
pictures of Booker T. Washington and
learned what I had suspected all my life:
school, but what I found was incredibly
George Washington Carver were brought
boring. At age six I knew that the teacher,
who was black, did not care about most
proud, but we either fell asleep or tuned
not “the world.” I felt my first great
of'us. I can’t remember her ever show-
out.
doubt about why I was studying so hard.
ing delight in anything I did. So much
Elementary school had additional pit-
If all that diligence was not going to pay
had to do with just sitting there, just
falls. Fights often began on the play-
off, why do it? Feeling alone with the
serving time.
ground and on the way home from
humiliation and shame of that experi-
Our first “lesson” was to sit down and
school. I now see that those fights were
ence, I felt a new kind of fear and anxi-
be quiet. Our second lesson was to
ety begin to take root. I was terrified that
memorize the pledge of'allegiance to the
dignation, frustration, rage, and despair.
each succeeding encounter would reveal
flag. We did not understand what any of
I was glad I was not the teacher's pet,
more of'my vast ignorance of the white
the words meant. Being taught to per-
though none ofus really escaped. As victims ofinvalidation we acted out our dis-
man’s world. This is a story about how
form like trained dogs, we were given
I was trained to take my American Negro
stars and A’s when we were good; if we
female place.
could not perform, we were ridiculed
“safe” place we had; in the schoolyard,
and punished. When the teacher’s pun-
we practiced turning on ourselves and
e lived in a state that was ra-
ishment did not work, our parents were
tress patterns on one another in the only
our schoolmates. The seeds of internal-
cially segregated by law. My
called in. We were learning to behave,
ized racism sprouted as we learned to
parents, grandparents, aunts,
not to question or to think.
hate, fear, and mistrust one another.
and uncles often spoke quietly about
When it was time to go to junior high
events. They were afraid something aw-
ost of what I was taught in
school, I rode on a school bus past neat
ful would happen to us kids even before
school seemed foreign to
and well-equipped white schools to a
we grew up. As a young black child, be-
my life at home. Learning to
small, dilapidated black school. My
fore I could even think, I was told how
read from the Dick-and-Jane readers I
older brothers had been sent away to a
bad things are out there in the world,
thought, This must be how white children
better school. I felt my parents did not
how there’s no place for us, how people
play. These standard American public
care much about my education because
don’t like us.
school readers were published from 1935
I was a girl. I didn’t like going there at
Speaking my mind could get me killed.
to 1965. They presented the American
all, and although we never spoke of it,
My own thoughts and feelings were sec-.
family as well-to-do, northern European
the other black kids didn’t like it either.
ondary. My questions, curiosity, and en-
Caucasian Christians leading trouble-free
The bus trips were often tense and un-
thusiasm had to be bridled. Learning
lives. Along with the mythical ideals of
ruly. We knew ours was the worst school
this would help me survive. I was often
owning-class European culture, the mes-
in the county. During the ride, a handful
told: “Shut up!”; “Who asked you your
sage I got from my black teachers was
of kids dominated the rest of us by
opinion?”; “Who said so?”; “You don’t
that something was wrong with us if we
playing “the dozens”— talking about ev-
know what you’re talking about!’”;
were too different: skin too dark, hair
erybody’s mother in a negative way and
“Mind your own business!”
too short or too kinky, dress too color-
putting one another down. This was part
They felt that the sooner I learned to
speak only when spoken to and to say
— 30
out. This was supposed to make us feel
that my education had prepared me to
live only in an American “Negro world,”
ful, talk too loud.
I learned to be ashamed of'who I was.
of learning how to survive. If you could
not doit, you had to fight or silently with-
no more than I had to, the better it was
Slowly and laboriously we read each
stand humilation. You also learned to hide
going to be for me. It was a fear, a si-
word in Little Black Sambo, a book still
your feelings by being “cool” or to disguise
lence put into me—and most black
being published today. Even though we
them by being “tough.”
kids—to prepare us, to toughen us up
were six and seven years old, we knew
for the real world like soldiers for war. I
the story made fun of'us in a cruel and
urged us to study. Most of'us felt it wasn’t
learned to respond with words that had
demeaning way. Is this supposed to be
going to make a difference in our lives.
double meanings and with a rhythm and
some kind of joke? I thought as I exam-
We had learned that our way of talking,
pace that could change or modify any
ined the teacher'’s face to get a clue. I
which expressed our experiences, was
message I was trying to get across.
could see she was seriously trying to
not a legitimate language, that our way
Yet my parents had hopes that adulthood would be better for us than it had
teach us to read.
In fourth, fifth, and sixth-grade history
Inside the classroom the teachers
of singing and playing music was not a
legitimate musical expression, and that
been for them. I was sent to kindergar-
and geography classes, we learned about
our way of being in the world was seen
ten at age five. The teacher, a friend of
the bravery of American whites and
as uncouth. We saw how our people
my parents, made learning and school
about European imperialism, slavery, and
had to behave and talk differently “out
seem like a lot of fun. Because of that I
the “dark continent.” One week a year,
there,” to “smile and shuffle” in order to
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“get over.” We did not know the smiles
ing in a white woman’s kitchen. She was
enroll their children in white schools
were meant to hide the fear.
a domestic worker and dreaded this pos-
but were turned away. Almost overnight,
sibility. However, I had to be very care-
however, our rundown school was paint-
ful to try not'to be too smart. It was just
ed. A gymnasium, auditorium, cafete-
hose of us who showed ability
one more’thing to isolate me further
ria, and chemistry lab were added, and
coupled with willingness to pay
from the other students. Being from a
a new principal with a crew of young
attention were pushed by our
poor family, I could not afford the new
black teachers brought in. Students who
teachers. They preached that we owed
clothes, junk jewelry, and junk food
could not see the handwriting on the
it to our race to prepare ourselves to go
most of the students felt were impor-
wall were suspended from school, most
to college. They guided us into courses
tant. They were trying to have fun now:
of them never to return.
that would prepare us for technical jobs
life after high school seemed hard for
in fields with worker shortages. It was a
black people, an end to the freedom we
test of memory, of concentration, and
enjoyed at the moment.
Every few months we were tested, and
our test scores were published and discussed by everyone. The county board
of willingness to study and repeat the
At the same time, I learned from my
of education said it showed we would
ideas from the textbooks and teachers
father that being a black female was more
never survive in white schools and that
without debate or discussion. To them
it did not matter what we might want to
problematic than being a black male. I
longed to grow up and be on my own.
we were better off where we were. But
our parents knew our separate facilities
do. We were told they knew what was
Before that was to happen, the 1954
were not equal and would not give up
best for us.
Brown v. Board of Education Supreme
their efforts.
It wasn’t easy to decide to be a good
Court ruling that “separate but equal”
When black kids integrated the white
student, but my mother always threat-
schools were unconstitutional was to
schools, black parents and teachers told
ened that ifI didn’t study and get a schol-
change our lives and test us even more.
us we would have to work really hard to
arship to college, I would end up work-
Some black parents immediately tried to
prove ourselves. The white teachers
Heresies 25
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Sa AA A A A A ML MO A I I Ve JE OI WN TA TE TT Sf WT I PT EN I
Kristin Reed Predominant Ideology, 1988, krylon, xerox, gouache, chalk, 12X14".
Kristin Reed t4 a patnter, muralist, and graphic artist (tving and working tin NYC.
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didn’t say anything to us or about us;
sources of strength. Those of us who
it seemed nothing was good enough
couldn't make the shift fast enough failed
for them. When we did something we
a number of times, but those who kept
my efforts to hide behind the facade of
thought was better, they tried to act as
trying became almost unstoppable.
an educated person did a lot of damage
though it hadn’t happened. We quickly
self through the eyes of people who are
different from you. I hadn’t realized that
to the young black girl I was. When peo-
arrived at an understanding of the fact
that there was no room for us inside
white schools. Our blackness—the thing
y first college was a black
ple refuse to see you, who you are be-
school in southern Virginia.
gins to slip away and you start to feel
I got a scholarship to major
you don"t exist. I find that trying to ex-
that had always made us so visible—now
in the sciences but yearned to be a stu-
made us disappear.
dent in the art department. I had diffi-
causes tremendous conflict, not only
But our parents were determined that
press my real voice in my work often
culty appreciating the administration’s
within other people’s expectations, but
we would stay. To them, abuse was just
efforts to “civilize” us. Gloves, dresses,
within myself as well.
taken for granted. They would tell us that
and hats were a Sunday requirement. We
if we got the same training as white stu-
even had lessons in how to behave at an
dents and worked twice as hard, the
afternoon tea. We were required to at-
ble silence of isolation forces
world would see our talents and oppor-
tend ballet and classical music perfor-
me to continue to try to con-
espite the difficulties, the terri-
Tomie Arai
tunities would open up.
However, our white classmates picked
up our white teachers’ cues. They tried
not to see what was going on. As our
isolation mounted, we could not name
mances given by white groups brought
nect with others. Sometimes white peo-
in from elsewhere. Only slowly did this
ple say to me, “You must be very excep-
school become a little more relaxed.
Years later in art school I painted my
tional!” I have learned this is a way of
rationalizing that somehow I must not
white models red, blue, or green. Usu-
really be black. I know this is no accep-
what was happening to us, but we knew
ally my white instructors said nothing,
tance at all. When I try to point this out,
howit felt. When we tried to speak ofit,
but occasionally one would say, “That’s
the response is usually, “What are you
we were asked, “What are you talking
not the way you do it!”—meaning that
talking about?” There we go making
about?” and by our silence we hid our
was not the way to make art. But for
nonconnecting exchanges again. This
anger at the distortion of our identity and
me, art had to express how I saw, felt,
time I know it is not caused by some
the exclusion of our reality. We didn’t
and thought.
realize it at the time, but in order to
failing on my part. x
It was only much later that I began to
Clarissa T. Sligh, national coordinator of Coast
cope, we searched for new ways of being
understand what it meant to grow up in
to Coast: Women of Color Artists’ Projects, is an
in the world, began to draw on new
a culture where you learn to see your-
artist living in New York City.
Heresies 25
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Welcome to You See
which is “normal.” I became an
English teacher born with rabies and
a red pen. Freud looked away from
CAROL FEISER LAQUE
Trench mind, trench mouth manipulation
to win at all costs. I say I must
be a chairman because | am a
Oedipus and wrote the Ode to Pussy Wrecks
hermaphrodite—all that any man could
Complex without tearing out Jocasta's
destroy. No one can touch me or
Antigones or me the Sphinx.
Major Medical who has four stars
Welcome to Xerox University.
The highest degree | ever attained
will call the Boys at Affirmative
Lie down on the glass plate
at You See is 104. I got a
Action. Twenty-five committees will
and magically the Phallic bar
Doctorate and passed the test
of light comes over and under
for my Poetic License. I've always
Destiny, Psycho-affective, Dangling
you, passing through your mind
been driven. My life is never in
Modifiers of my genitalia, and
like Star Whores. Pay your
danger from free speech at a
I will demand the same xenophobia
tuition and duplicate the Phallic
fascist, totalitarian, appropriate
extended to all women, Jewish people,
bar of light, so one thousand good
University because of my Religion.
Blacks, Migrant workers, Mormons, Seventh
or reimbursement which is being
Shield. I chose it because it
Aluminum Siding As Concrete Art, etc.
Xeroxed into a Diploma, symbolizing
matches my eyes. 104 is also
that learning and the key to success
the IQ necessary to be Xeroxed
is being Xeroxed and duplicated
into a Doctorate. You also
replications becomes your tuition
be established concerning the Manifest
Day Adventists, used-car salespersons,
The Sayings of Chairman Meow
illustrates that if you are a tomcat
you spray your way to success, marking
precisely as liberally and as artistically
have to trade your humanity
as the reductions or enlargements of the
for a license to be a rabies
Path of logic to pathology. If you
blankness of a piece of white paper.
babies hunting madly for
are anything else, you let the Yellow
If you're a white woman the
someone to bite. You see?
bar of light passes over you
Or you Nazi? If you can
turn viscous—homocidal because
territory like follow the Yellow Brick
Brick Wall of man's inhumanity to man
afford to go to a prestigious
the stakes of academe are so small—and
no big deal. A man, however, faces
university east, south, west,
destroy feeling for the sake of
one large bump, his greatest
or north of here, you will be
power, disintegrity. Since l's a
Psycho-Sexual crisis, and he is
Xeroxed and enlarged and embossed
hermaphrodite (also spelled Herm Aphro
Xeroxed, but becomes a god in
at the same time. And your
bumping twice over your breasts—
Dike) nobody harms Me for fear
the process. In this case a
genitally correct organs will be bronzed—
l'Il take my pants down and show
Phallus is Xeroxed into Erectus—
just as language the only organ
them everything they are not but who
outside the body will be stainless
the freaks really are in life.
a phallusy (see). But that
phallacy is em Bossed with Power
steal, polysyllabic, and exclusionary.
It's called mooning—both sides
Politics, indicating whoever will rise
As an English teacher born with
of all four phases. I am
to the top will be a Psychopath of the
rabies and a red pen, |
a radical feminist, so I recognize
Old Boys' School, putting cream that
will teach all students from
women can be terrorists too. |
rises to the top in your coffee from the
The Bible of Truth and Scholarship
believe in excellent teaching, publications,
creamatorium in your always erect
which no one comprehends and which
mind. There is no Phallus for all of
is voted and amended by consensus
alike. I'm a hermaphrodite out
us Interruptus. I'm an English teacher,
morality, consensus reality, consensus
for all the gentle men and women
so I was born with rabies and a
justice, consensus prejudice, consinsus
humanity for all students and faculty
body spirits—look at my
red pen in my first. I came out
pathology, which will be voted on
body, hear my words, and
totally Red at birth and turned to
weekly by the majority of psychopaths
shudder in terror at who
who rule. The book I am writing
we label freak and why.
Major Medical; she has four stars.
blue because my obstetrician was
is called The Sayings of Chairman
l am not alone as |
His Storians now call themselves
Meow. I call my self chair
am the Sphinx, a stone poem:
Psycho (tick, tock) His Storians,
man because to stay in power I will
meow. One word says
Psychotic His Storians will control
lie, cheat, steal, play both sides against
everything. I have more than Nine Lives
the Truth. Just like Freud, I am
the middle, speak so nobody understands
because I am desert and ocean
unafreud and jung again like
me and call them stupid, be vicious
the Psychology Department. They teach
only behind backs, be nodding and smiling
alive on fire. The decision
Abnormal and Child Psychology which
all the time performing in the best tradition
to be humane is made every
is why they act like abnormal children
under the milkyway—I am
day of your life.
Nao)
Education
= 34.
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35
LEARN TO EARN'
Pamela Wye Learn to Earn, 1988, pen and ink.
Pamela Wye ta a New York City artist and writer. She moat recently exhibited drawinga in a group exhibition at Emily Sorkin Gallery and writea for ARTS magazine.
Heresies 25
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“I was actually born in Sausalito,” the Kid says. “In
66, on a houseboat. My dad was an artist, called him-
name. He used to go to Volunteers of America and
Goodwill and the Sally Army and get this great stuff
and stick it all together and display it on the beaches.
My mom left him when I was three. She took me,
my older sister, the orange cat, and a vase of peacock
feathers which somebody later told her were bad
luck.”
He pauses. He’s got a paisley bandanna tied
round his wrist and a silver feather hanging from his
ear. He’s stopped me in the hall even though classes
don't start till next week, and I am clearly impatient.
He fiddles with the bandanna and studies my face
with his gray-green eyes. You can’t help but notice
him. The eyes and something prematurely ironic in
his face, they draw you.
o
“Write it down,” I say. He bows and leaves.
H- there the next week. On time. Holding his
printout as though it were a ticket to something magical, something more filled with possibility than I
know this seminar to be. Creative Writing 1. All over
A
the country someone like me is sitting down with
someone like him, one of'us filled with resignation,
the other filled with what must feel like a beginning.
His classmates straggle in. They must have heard
about me. Most of them are on time. And they are
Ci.
looking sharp: B.R. and Esprit and L.A. Kicks and
denim jackets that somebody has washed in a vat of
stones. I can’t quite figure out why the Kid is the
only one with dark hair when the class list holds a
Ramirez and a Yazzie.
They are about to be surprised. They are about to
discover that I don’t have an opinion on the governor and Martin Luther King, that I don’t give a damn
if they saw The Color Purple, and that though my son
is named Bobby and my daughter Angela, I am resigned to living in a decade when the original of the
aforementioned Bobby has been featured in an article in the New York Times Business Section on barbecue magnates. Indeed, I let my hair do its do, and
yes, my butt is big and I refuse to give up dashikis
because they make little of what's big. They are going
to discover that they will call me Ms. and that I am
not particularly eager for them to know my first
Painter, printmaker, and sculptor Nancy Wells has been
seriously involved in making art for the last thirty years. She is
currently teaching teachers to teach art at the School of Visual
Arts and also teaches printmaking at the Bob Blackburn
Printmaking Workshop. She lives and works in Jersey City and
New York City.
Nancy Wells
e. u
o
R & =>
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i ,
`
name, much less use it. It’s all going to be less pre-
the Akita they have named Patrice. They do look
dictable than they might have guessed coming
good. All of them. She reminds me it’s different now.
through that door for the first time—if, in fact, they
When I visit, she takes me to wonderful restaurants `Y
bothered to guess at all.
where they serve black-eyed peas garnished with ci-
The Kid gives me a funny look. “Are you alright?”
lantro and spoonbread hot with chiles. She laughs
he asks, and I safely tuck him away in my E-Z file:
when she tells me that Eldridge has designed a line
this kid is Pure California. Mom’s assertive. There are
of men’s pants.
books lying around the house, which has huge win-
“You will.write,” I say, “for next class on the theme
dows, the windows hung with little stained-glass
of your summer vacation.” The redhead looks wor-
symbols of things hopeful, things mystical, things
ried. Bored writes my words, maybe, down in his
" preached about in the Unitarian Church Mom surely
Life Plan. The Kid laughs.
gm attends. The books have titles that indicate that
“Alright,” he says. “Allllllllright!” s
men do not much like women but that women
I realize that in the excitement I have forgotten to `p g
can do many things about that. The Kid and Mom
take attendance, so I do. The redhead’s name is Rain. : Bored is Toby. The Kid wont tell us his first name. y
were somewhere special on those summer days .
when something was supposed to harmonize or
Must run in the family, that hip coyness. All the print- 9 €
converge.
out says is “Saturn, N.” In addition to these three, .
“I am fine,” I say to all of them and smile my smile
there are two Jennifers, one of whom is dressed from s
that I have learned to do, the one that involves only
>
the lower half of the face, the smile that is cliché
barrette to ankle boots, in sherbet yellow. There are
4
Corey and Chris, Lupe and a Farrah Fawcett look-
and judgment in itself. “And I am Ms. Green and
alike named Debby Yazzie. Steve and Rick and Jon
this is Creative Writing 1, and it is my hope that
and Randy all have perfect haircuts and wear jams in A
we will surprise each other before the end of the
terrible colors. There are two no-shows. I encourage
semester.”
those present to leave early. The Kid hesitates at the Ay
A skinny redhead to the Kid's left raises her hand.
door, checks out the set of my shoulders, and leaves.
I’m afraid she has managed to mismanage her frizzy
hair into dreadlocks. She has even wrapped four lit-
N ext class, the two no-shows show. They've even
p| tle braids with colored yarn. It must have required
done the assignment. One of the no-shows, a tiny
the kind of stoned concentration that only a dedi-
woman in a very large shirt, develops an immediate
cated follower of Jah could sustain. She is wearing a
and obvious case of something for Toby and spends
tie-dyed T-shirt with a skull silk-screened across the
the entire class carefully ignoring him. He is busy
with his Life Plan and a calculator. I read them an
bosom. I can’t bring myself to check her feet, to see
if she’s wearing those thick German sandals that make
early story by Doris Lessing and when I call on him,
everybody’s feet ug-ly. I nod.
he gives me a gorgeous warm smile and says he’s
“Will we read some Third World writers?” she asks.
sorry but he drifted off for a minute.
The silvery-blond young man who’s just come in
The other no-show is dressed all in beige: cotton
the door glances at her, glances at me, smiles care-
shirt and sweater and pants and shoes that have an
` fully, and settles into the desk in the farthest corner
unusual, in my view, number of flaps and snaps and
" of the room. He’s already bored. I can tell because
loops. He himself is also in beige: hair, skin, eyes,
"he pulls out one of those hundred-dollar Daily Life
. eyelashes, even the fine fuzz on his arms. The Kid
Plan books and begins leafing through. The Kid is
stares at him. Those orbs of his, they seem to eat up
everything—hungry, shining, long-lashed, gray-green
_ watching me intently.
“I don’t care what you read,” I say. “I care what
holes in space. He’s got a funny almost-sweet smile,
you write.” She blushes, the pink washing up be-
like he can’t quite believe what he seems to see.
hind her freckles. I pull the first class assignment out
My Angela comes to mind. I remember shopping
with her in Tucson. We’d stuffed ourselves on tama-
of my old briefcase. Angela, my daughter, wishes I
would get rid ofit, the briefcase. She says it’s ostenta-
>
les and were walking in that big airy mall. She
tiously po’ folks. She wishes I would getmy hair cut
_ and buy some new clothes and realize that the old
_ days are nothing but old She’s living in D.C. with
her husband. He’s going to Howard. She sends the |
pictures of the two of them, of their townhouse, of
plunked down on a bench near the fountains and s s
started people-watching. That’s her favorite pastime "|
next to talking trash about what she watches. She . — »
shakes her head as they parade by, the young ladies
v
in aerobics gear, the poor souls in Bermuda shorts, ,
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the college kids who appear to have been computerdrawn and die-cut.
used to brew up to spread on his bony old chest
bench, eyelids drooping, every muscle in her body
è she knew that milk and sugar would make you sleep
when he had the catarrh. I’ve got a big mug of milk
and molasses. She knew that, too. Long before the
scientists and the ladies’ magazines started telling us,
good. A little rum doesn’t hurt. That’s my discovery.
“I’ve got to get me one of those big old gourmet
Milk and molasses for sleep. Rum for the emptiness.
chocolate chip cookies just to stand this mess.” That’s
“Make you sleep good...” Angela says I’m trying
how we are, my child and her mother. Cookies. So-
: to talk down home when I say stuff like that. She’s
never forgiven me for growing up in Evanston, for
ship, of love.
her grandpa being a dentist, for me having no trou-
The Kid taps the beige one on the arm and smiles.
ble getting into a good school, earning a good de-
“David Byrne, I presume?” he asks.
NVs
,
- gree, getting a mediocre job. She keeps wanting to
know about her roots, the real ones. Milk and mo-
“No,” the beige one says nicely. “My name is Mark.
I think you've mistaken me for someone else.”
lasses. Some hymns. Greens and ham hocks with lots
The room has gotten awfully quiet, so I run on for
of black pepper. Remembering my mama’s church
a while about Lessing and how she can make you
clothes, the print dresses, the fine sharp hats, the
feel a place and how they might want to think about
white gloves, the brooch, not gaudy, but real gold
. shining against her shoulder, I tell her about that.
Y B
a A
` And me, that too, standing politely outside the dime
`
treasure in their memory.
store on Fifty-third Street on an August day, that Chi-
“Does it have to be real?” Rain asks.
cago stockyards soot hanging in the wet air, me
dressed in a tasteful skirt and blouse, staying calm,
The Kid is studying me again. I start to move down
the aisle to pick up their work. Rain has woven some
keeping my eyes carefully focused over the custom-
feathers into her braids. She touches them nervously
: ers’ shoulders while they read my sign, while they
as I approach her seat.
walk away or shake my hand or spit at my feet. It
“I’m sorry,” she says in her high little voice. “That
worked. A year later, anybody could buy a bad ham-
was a dumb question. I didn’t think. Really. I'm
burger anytime in an Atlanta lunch counter.
Rain’s handwritten sheets are on the top of
bummed.” She starts to hand me her paper and
ducks her head.
- the pile. She has gone to every Grateful Dead con~ cert in the Southwest in the summer of ’87 and
“If you can make me want to be there, honey,” I
. she wants me to know of the righteous, the totalsignment into the pile in my hand. It’s on nötebook
- ly unbogus vibes of those concerts. She wants me
paper. The child has handwritten it. She has dotted
to know that there are people at those concerts
her i’s with little circles.
who are almost old, there are men with gray braids,
there are Black people and Chicanos. The Dead
let anybody make tapes off their soundboards.
` Twice there were rainbows. Once, at Red Rocks,
surface of the old roll-top desk that takes up most of
it rained right at a part in the song where it talks
the living-dining room. It had been my grandpa’s
F2
s Í,
{ about rain. The Dead want one world...hey, a con-
desk. Some of the cubbyholes still smell like his old
B cert is one world...that’s what they want, like Bob
-
-: Ly
ANU
= Y-
PY
=A
YO v-
ae
4 MAT A M
-
948
A Ut
I LI,
F
p
z š
AN
<
WAO KNOWS HE KNOWS...
BPN —
Nancy Wells
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LAs
o
Marley, Peter Tosh, like all those dudes. Jah!
male hustler or a French sailor or a Manhattan litter (
I add a little more rum to the milk. I don’t want to
-4 box. The word “spike” appears frequently and I can’t å
w tell if it’s slang for syringe or an inadequate male `
grade these things. I correct all the spelling errors.
She’s got the hard ones right, like Rastafarian and
organ. He’s poured ink on some of the sections and L
1 : Y labeled $ the
blotch “random censor.”
Ethiopia and synchronicity. It’s the small words, the
ordinary ones she can't handle. [I start to play with
F -< -< I find myself saying “Have mercy” out loud and {
the punctuation and lose heart. My children’s father,
invoking with the last sip of warm milk, now fumey
Leon, my ex-husband, he had teased me, then nagged
me, and finally gotten so he’d just slip out of the
$ ™ the Kid. with
“See me
I write,ghost
and go
rum,soon,”
the puzzled
of to
my bed.
grandma. I fail /
room when he found me muttering over their poor
papers. It was only one of the ways we had not been
They are puzzled, surprised, disappointed. I
able to keep it—what, keep it kind? I still think of
know how they feel. Writing what have been de-
him nights like this, because at least when I was done,
scribed as “elegant, somewhat detached” essays, I
he had been in there, asleep, his fine-boned body
/
more often than not open an envelope and let a re- {
warming the bed. Uh-uh! I will not give in to that
eut
drop
out
my grandpa’s
now slip
and then
I sit
withonto
my sleeping
potion and desk.
let it And *
Toby has written a cool, tight, tense, polished
rest on my tongue and, even sweeter, let the printed
chrome and enamel, nasty little jewel on Europe on
Page I hold in my hands rest in my mind. “June Jor- _
two hundred dollars a day. He hasn't missed a trick,
S dan Plain Talking” by Antoinette Green. I sleep the
in his travels, in his style. I give him an A-. It'll drive
him crazy. Debby Yazzie starts off slow, then gets me
good sleep of the worker on those nights. So when
3
right there, on her grandma’s ranch, in the dust and
the wind and the mutton broiling on the wood-fire
of it. She’s got a problem with paragraphs—some-
they glance at the last page of their papers and let
their eyes rest briefly on my face, with pleasure, with
7
petulance, I know how it is.
S-
Later they come to my office, that small room with
body taught her to put exactly four sentences in each
no window, that neat room without posters, with-
one—but she gets me to smell the juniper, the dust,
out clues. I sit in the straight-backed library chair and
the rank fat perfume of the mutton. I clean up the
I listen. Toby is charming. He mentions Paris Review
paragraphs and give her a B+.
and his hope of being a successful novella-ist. He
Pv
p
I pull Rain’s paper back out and give her a double
waits for me to appreciate the joke. I smile. He talks
grade: C for writing, B for politics. That'll bring her
vaguely of Ralph Ellison and the tyranny of'print. He
running. If T've got to hold office hours, I may as well
leaves with his A- intact. I’ve brought an apple and f r
teach these kids to debate. Not dialogue. Debate.
taste clean. f .
yogurt for lunch. In the silence, the solitude, they
The others do the predictables: Puerto Penasco,
I smell patchouli. Rain follows her scent. She pulls ' 4
kids’ camp, Volunteer in the Parks, back-packing,
river-running, scooping it out at Baskin Robbins. The
her paper from her peasant bag and sets it on the
Kid’s paper is last. The Kid’s papers. I open the
desk.
TI
stained envelope and a wad of paper cutouts falls
“I wonder,” she says, “like I was kind of bummed, A
out. He’s read Burroughs. He knows Dada. He’s cut
no big deal, really, but hopefully we could talk about ,° A
my grade?” j
up old Patti Smith lyric sheets and thrown in some
Her nails are bitten to the quick and very clean.
early Leroi Jones for good measure. There’s more. If
I read the mess right, he’s spent the summer as a
She tucks her feet a under her and perches on the
T KNOW was SANO y
TEKNOW, KNOW I Ky, 4 NOW, Klo, KNOW
T KNOW
f KNO
EXCUSE Me sip HEN
T KNOW Tiy,
1 KNOW
\WHAT 1S IT you Khouw SW NHAr N KNOWN
a
Tr musr
Be WONDERFUL.
To Kow
vou Kw...
|
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chair. I know that any minute she will hunker for-
“Listen,“ I say. “If you want people to hear, write
ward and hug her knees. I wrap the apple core in
about how you heard, what you heard...not so
winds and leans toward the basket.
much the people on the stage, but the people around
“I can use that for my compost,” she says, “I mean,
you... OK?”
like if you don’t mind?”
“Far out,” she says. She flops the bag on my desk
“No,” I say, “hopefully it'll be good for your gar-
and begins rummaging in it. “Here,” she says, “this
den.” I feel a mean little charge in my gut and sur-
is for you. I got it at Telluride. Purple’s a high healing
prise her and myself by apologizing.
power.” She sets a little amethyst crystal on my desk.
works.” 7
“I'm sorry,” I say. She looks eager and puzzled.
I pick it up and hold it in the fluorescent light.
“Rain,” I say, “you don’t use hopefully that way. You
“Sunlight,” she says. “Natural light, that’s what |
can say ‘I hope’ or ‘one hopes,’ but if you are serious
about this course, you will not use hopefully in that
“It’s pretty,” I say. “Thank you.”
way. Hopefully is an adverb: ‘She said hopefully.’
“Blessed be,” she says, blushes, and leaves. I rub
Something like that.”
the crystal along my temples. It’s not much more
than a small cool smoothness.
She mentions another instructor and points out
that he uses it all the time.
The Kid is next and he’s very carefully carelessly
“He's wrong,” I say and try, again, to tell her why.
beautiful. He’s wearing sleek shades, the mirrored
She gets confused. She’s not real sure what an ad-
kind. He’s got a long tweed coat on over beat-up
j verb is. I realize she has no foundation, and I start to
Levis and a clean clean white, button-down shirt. I
think of language in just that way, as a shelter, as a
have to look away. How he does what he does—put
structure, as a home. I imagine a new essay and for-
that surface together without a flaw—it scares me.
get her for a minute. She pokes around in her big
He’s curled his hair and when he pulls off his shades,
bag and pulls out a bandanna. She wipes her eyes. I
I can see that he’s lined his eyes with indigo pencil.
realize she is crying.
He’s got those rich-bitch fine-ass features that our M
“I’m bummed,” she says. “Tve got so much inside
poor Michael J. has had to carve from his living skin
and I can’t get it out so other people can hear. Like
and bones. There’s a silver moon in the Kid’s left
my mom,” she says, “I go home and I play the Red
ear. Its curved up. My friend, Ramona, once told
Rocks tapes and I try to show her some things I wrote
me her people believed that kind of moon was a
about them, about the Dead. I mean, she’s your age,
sign of withholding.
right, so she was my age when they were starting.
“I didn’t expect you'd deal in success or failure,”
And all she can talk about is how I should shave my
he says.
legs and that if T took off all my earrings but one pair
“You’re too damn young to be so damn hip,” I
I'd look so nice. So, I go—.”
say quietly.
I hold up my hand.
“Who judges?” he says quickly. “I like to shatter
“Stop,” I say. “In the first place, you don’t ‘go,’ you
things.”
‘say.’ In the second, you and your mom are not my
“Honey,” I say, “you've got to make before you
break.”
business.”
“Oh,”. she says. “I'm sorry.” She starts to get up.
“I didn’t sign on for political theory,” he says and
“Wait,” I say. She hefis the bag to her shoulder and
smiles. “But, Ms. Green, while we’re at it, what are
wobbles a little from the weight. Compost, I imagine.
yours?”
PLEASE se... Tell me WHAT Yov Khóa,
GOOD HEAVENS... ALL YOU EVER SA |s
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reuME... WHAT DO YOL KNaw 7 a
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OW
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“A,” I say. “And I am Ms. Green, and this is office
hours for Creative Writing 1.”
FHARARRIEITEI
He’s staring at a page in the magazine. “Can I borrow this?” he asks. His voice is thick. When he looks
“A for anarchy?” he persists.
up, his eyes are trancey.
“Be careful,” I say.
VS
this...and I'm getting bored.”
I watch him shape himself back into what he thinks
Rain misses the next class. The Kid hands in his
rewrite and the new assignment in that same stained
him. It’s bitter and piney and somehow comforting.
envelope. I feel a little lump in the package. That
vM
“It’s juniper smoke,” he says. “I got smudged before I came here.”
night, as I take out his work, a sprig of dry sage falls
out. I crush it between my fingers and rub the oils
“Are you Indian?” I ask.
into my wrists, along my temple. I can smell a place
“No,” he laughs. “But I might wannabe.”
I’d like to know. I’m a little surprised when I see that
the accompanying pages are blank. I take up there-
old days; rootless white kids; middle-aged lefi-wing
write with the sage scent plain and strong in the air.
politicos who wannabe—you can find them at Big
“In the pines out behind my mom’s house,” the
Mountain rallies, up on the Mesas at the dances. Navajo, Hopi, Yaqui, that’s what they wannabe. Usetabe
me they’d wannabe. Back in ’61, back in SNCC, in
ning so that suddenly I'm walking through flowers.
A moment before, a moment after, there’s only a
different light and dry grasses.”
girls in cotton shifis, the boys in overalls, the ones
who said “Right on” and “yo mama” and learned to
I give him an A for the work. I fail the blank pages
and give him an A+ for the sage.
signify, I wonder where they are.
“Well, you ain’t,” I say. “You are what we refer to
these days as a son of the dominant culture. How’d
you find out about Burroughs?”
"T'he days later the Kid stops me after a graduate
seminar and asks if we can talk.
“TIl listen,” I say. We go to my office and he waits
“He was a friend of'a friend of my dad’s,” he says.
politely till I'm settled in. Then he slaps the maga-
I know he’s lying. “Whatever,” I say. “Cut-up ain’t
zine down on the desk and just looks at me. He’s
nothin’ but t.p. to me,” I say. “What are we going to
drawn a tiny silver star on his left cheekbone. It’s
do about this?”
terrific against his olive skin. It works like a TV screen
“I'll write something different,” he says. He looks
down. There’s a copy of an international literary
in a gloomy bar; my eyes are pulled back to it, again
and again.
“This stuff is true?” he says.
graphs so technically perfect that they seem to float
up off'the page and monstrous stories of people who
“Yes,” 1 say.
“They would really take a person and shove, you
disappear and those who disappear them. I’m re-
know...a boiling hot rock up their ass? They would
viewing something for the magazine, a book on
do that?” he asks.
South Africa, on women—a country far removed
from me, a sex I’ve come to believe I barely know.
“Is this the kind of stuff you read?” the Kid asks.
“Sometimes,” I say. I check my watch. “Time to
“And more,” I say.
“OK,” he says. “How did I miss all this? I read. I
watch TV My mom’s real aware of things.”
“Who would want to know about it?” I ask.
close up shop,” I say and nod at the door.
Bur
TMNotT EN
NEVER
w WHAT HE 3AYs HE KNows.... .
am boen
Frem
40O WHO CARES IF T DONT KNOW T KNAW.,
3aying
TKnow
IKnow...
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I hand him a pamphlet on Chile, on the Mothers.
knows my'ups and downs, so she calls and we talk
One of their finest journalists, now dead, wrote it.
for two hours. Later I wonder if I'm having one of
Someone here, a woman who has lefi that country,
those midlife crises people are getting rich writing
translated it. The Kid thanks me and leaves his sec-
about.
ond rewrite on my desk. When I finish, I truly want
to be there, on that north California coastline. I want
to see the Great Blue Heron. I want to smell the salt
and pine of the air.
Nobody comes in during office hours. The mail is
a joy. U. of New Mexico Press wants to publish a small
collection of my essays on barely known women
writers of color. Harper’s buys a short piece. There is
A few classes later, we are starting to get to know
an invitation from my chairman to come in and dis-
each other. None of'them has withdrawn. They have
cuss a few things. I lock up and head down the hall.
turned in their poorest, their OK, their on-the-wayto-good, and their surprising work on how it might
be to be a visitor in a foreign country where one
could not speak the language and where one was
immediately identifiable as a stranger. Jon, one of
He is free. He smiles, offers me sherry, and tells
me he’s delighted to hear my news, because, frankly,
g he has become concerned about my failure to make
certain linkages between teaching and publication.
It appears that my priorities are skewed. I dare not
the jams boys, wrote about visiting the girl’s locker
drink the sherry or I will have to ask him in a plainly
room. They have begun to critique each other, to be
nasty way what the hell a “linkage” is. They all talk
very harsh or silent, to say what they would like to
like that these days, not just the education faculty.
hear, and, sometimes, to say what I could not.
Debby Yazzie has tapped on my office door, that
I meet Margot for lunch to celebrate New Mexico
door being wide open, she being unable to raise her
and Harper’s. I bitch clear through her Chardonnay
eyes to meet mine, which I understand. A century
and soda, my rum and Coke, both our salads, and
ago I might have been seen by her people as some
the chocolate suicide we split. I tell her about Ange-
kind of witch, possibly one of those who is so dread-
la’s diagnosis. She laughs.
ful that its name is not spoken. She wants to know if
“Julie tells me the same thing,” she says. Julie is
I ever read Ntozake Shange’s for colored girls who have
. her twenty-year-old going-on-ancient daughter, who
considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf, and she
- lives in Seattle and knows about securities and pork
wonders if I know that it isn’t so different sometimes
' bellies and Ginny Maes. She’s on two phones eight
for girls of her background. She tells me her favorite -
hours a day and in the company library six more.
sister has gone East to school and that her professor,
She tells Margot she’s too busy for a man, but that
a Japanese woman born in California, had suggested
Margot, being advanced in years, has the luxury of
the book. I have to smile. So does she.
“You know about the eyes?” she asks cautiously.
“We were slaves,” I say. “Different danger, same
gateway.”
kicking back and “drawing in” the right one. She,
like Angela, believes we draw in the events and
people in our lives; draw in negative and, uh uh!
draw in positive—well, my my my! I think living
with the threat of nuclear annihilation has softened
“A ngeh" I write about halfway through the sem-
their brains.
ester. “Help me, child, I am intolerant as our good
“I got to start drawing in those positive men,” I
. Governor. I look at most of the white kids’ papers
say to Margot, “all those smart, healthy, horny, avail-
and all I can see is weak sentences and bad spelling
and arrogance and can’t think and don’t give a damn.
One writes this thin stuff about perfect people in
able middle-aged Black men.”
“Are there any?” Margot asks.
“I believe they are out there in the astral plane
perfect marriages with perfect children who suddenly
somewhere... just waiting on us positive women...
have a DISASTER! and prevail perfectly. Another one
along with all the smart, etc. white guys,” I say.
writes fairy tales. This young man, the clone with the
That’s when we order chocolate suicide and two
perfect bone structure, keeps writing this obscene
spoons. Draw in positive and you get chocolate sui-
elegant mess about cocaine and cars and pussy. I can’t
cide and two not-too-bad-lookin’ women laughing
tell most of the rest of them apart.
and a lunch check for thirty dollars.
“I am a failure of compassion.”
“You need a man,” she writes back. “Swear to God,
Mama, you truly need a man. It’s been eight years.”
Pm so mad I send a telegram. “Like hell I do.” She
Tha night when the phone rings I almost don’t
answer it. It is the Kid. His voice sounds funny. At first
I think he’s high and start to tell him that Ms. Green l
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P -- and Creative Writing 1 do not exist for students mess-
something wet and good-smelling, telling me to
ing with drugs.
hush, calling me child.
“Something happened to the beige one,” he says,
“to Mark.” I realize he’s absolutely sober.
T hare’ a hole in the seminar. You can’t miss it,
“What?” I ask.
and you can’t say a thing about it, especially me. We’re
“He jumped out of the ninth floor of the math
rolling on toward the last few classes. The Kid is writ-
tower,” he says.
It happens about twice a year at this school. I stare
up at the ceiling. “Do Lord,” I say before I can stop
myself. I suddenly wish I had white gloves and good
ing about the early days, about the smell off'the Bay
and the new people who began to move in and the
divorce and split custody and always being the new
kid in class. Rain is dotting her i’s with dots. Toby
has ceased to remind me of an oil slick under a
Jaguar-XKE. Every image I arrive at for him is a sleek
R hear the Kid make some muffled noise.
cliché, and I give up, wondering if that failure isn’t
“Pm here,” | say
the definition. I think once of The Shining. I imagine
“We went for coffee a couple times,” the Kid says.
him peeking around the classroom door, his perfect
J “No big deal, I think we were curious about each
B other. I used to tease him and he got so he'd tease
I back. He’d been so tight, so safe. I played one of the
hair a mess, his gorgeous face grotesque, him whispeering, ‘“Heeeeceeere’s Toby!”
Debby Yazzie comes to my office and walks right
early Talking Heads tapes for him once. He liked it. I
“It’s called ‘The Lady in Turquoise,” she says. “I |
the joke.”
“Listen,” I say, “I don’t mean to be cold, but there’s
nothing left to do...if there ever was anything.”
was thinking about sending it to her, to that Shange
woman. I wanted you to read it first.”
“TIl read it,” I say. “But go ahead and sendit. I bet |
she gets lonely out there.”
“Alright!” she says and pauses. She’s looking at me
i Some feeling starts to crawl toward the surface. I notice the phone is slippery in my hand.
like she’s measuring me for something.
“Listen,” she says. “Ifyou want to try some of our
“Write about it,” I say. “Tve got to go.”
food, there’s a restaurant up near that old grade
“Wait,” he says. “I knew you’d say that. That’s all
school. You could go there.” She says the next part
there is to do, really, isn’t there? I’ve been reading
i those plays you gave me about South Africa. I thought
it was all some nice safe liberal hands-linked-in-front| ofthe-embassy deal. It’s not, right? It’s about people
quickly. “A lot of the neighborhood people do.
Doesn't matter, you know!”
“TIl do that,” I say. “When I used to live up north,
I used to go out to Gray Mountain.”
| being trapped, right? People being killed by some] thing that sucks the air out of them?”
“Write about it,” I say. “Like that. That’s all I’ve got
to give you.”
After I hang up the phone I start to think about
chocolate suicide. I don’t mean to, but the phrase
keeps coming back and back and then I start to laugh
and then to cry. I’ve been working on an article on
linear plotting vs./and flashback. I shut off the type-
Ste smiles. I see clearly how beautiful she is, in her q
torn Motley Crue T-shirt, with the lean flawless line
of her perfect belly visible, with the three woven Guatemalan bracelets on her wrist, with her hair bleached
and permed into that early ‘80s flip the girls on the
Res seem to love. She unties one of the bracelets
and hands it to me. We tie it around my wrist.
“Till it falls off, right?” I ask.
writer and slip an old tape into the deck. The mech-
“For friendship,” she says. “I may have to miss the
anism lurches and Aretha Franklin’s voice, the young
last class. My grandma might need me up there. She’s
Aretha Franklin’s voice finishes me off. I flop on the
getting really old.” She giggles. “She’s so little,” she
couch and let those damn tears run down the sides
says. “Her head comes to my shoulder.”
of my face.
“Bridge over troubled waters...”
I asked for this. I'm crying so hard my chest hurts.
My nose is running and I can hardly breathe. IfI had
] the Kid’s number Id call him back but I don*t, so I
“My grandma’s too,” I say. I think of that small,
proper, fierce woman.
Debby reaches out her hand. “I want you to know
I learned a lot,” she says. We shake. Her grip is gentle
as a`child’s.
just lie on the damp couch cushion and imagine my
grandma sitting in the room, wiping my face with
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their last assignment. It is also their final. It will count
for half their grade. Pastel Jennifer raises her hand.
in front of her and says, “I have a problem and I
“Is that fair, do you think?” she asks.
wonder if maybe you could help me?” She smiles a
“Yes; 1say.
genuinely wistful smile.
“Well, why?” she says.
“Because I am Ms. Green and this is Creative Writing 1 and you are taking it.”
“Well,” she says, “I can see why you would say
“Hopefully,” I say and, for the first time in the semester, I hear her laugh. It’s good laugh, straight up
from her chest. The bells chime along. She takes a
deep breath, closes her ginger eyes and gets serious.
that, but you know, you work real hard on a class or
“My old man left me,” she says and suddenly be-
something and you really try to get something out of
gins to sob. “Don’t worry,” she says, “it’s good to cry
it. I mean, you do your best, you know, like you
like this, to let your feelings out. It clears the fourth
really care a lot about the assignments and your grade,
chakra.”
and everything, and it seems you ought to get something out of all of that that’s really fair.”
I hand her a tissue. I wonder how they get out of
bed in the morning and find their way here, these
“Ido,” 1 say.
kids who live in this maze of teachings. I watch her
“No,” she says. She is blushing behind her blusher.
rub her eyes.
“I mean'me.”
Rain is nodding her dreads vigorously. The Kid
looks at me and shakes his head. “That’s cold, Ms.
Green,” he says.
“Really,” she says, “It’s OK. Besides, I drew him in,
you know, and everything that happens works out.”
I see that it isn’t even teaching, it’s a cheerful chaos `
of beginnings of teachings. And the others, the ones
“True,” I say. “However, when one uses ‘you’ for
who believe that they know exactly where they'll be
‘me,’ I stop listening. I get bored. I don’t like to be
in ten years, the ones with the Life Plans, the ones
bored, OK?”
who look burnished, I cannot bear to think of'them.
I hate myself for that “OK?” and the Kid knows it.
“Your father lefi?” I ask, though I know better.
“No,” she whispers, “Miguel, my old man. He
He grins.
“Jennifer,” I say. “Come and see me. I won’t change
went back to his old old lady. It’s not him. It’s me. I
don’t know how to let go.” She starts to sob again.
just did.”
“OK,” she says and makes it almost a question.
“Rain,” I say. I think I am going to firmly suggest
is the standard one. I want them to write a short
story, nọ more than twenty pages, no less than ten.
take a hot bath, meditate, and listen to the Dead, but
That’s all, except that I want it to be of content and
I don*t. I say, “I know how it is.”
quality. If they don’t know what I mean, it’s too late.
“You do?” she says, and I realize she cannot imagine how one as hefty and middle-aged as I could
J ennifer never makes it to my office, but Rain does.
know about any of this.
She’s tucked her dreads up into a knit tam’o’shanter.
“Yes,” I say. “It’s happened more than once. I hate
It’s red and black and green, and I can hardly stand
it every time, except that I usually lose a few pounds.
to look at it and her pale face, woebegone and hope-
It'll probably happen again.”
ful, beneath it.
“I don’t know if you can help me with this?” she
“What did you do?” she asks. “Like, how did you
let him go?”
says and perches on the chair. She pulls off her tam
“I drank,” I say. “I lived on yogurt till I could start
and her hair tumbles stiffly down around her shoul-
eating too much again. Chocolate. Work. Once I
ders. She’s strung some tiny bells in her braids. I wait
moved two thousand miles. I don’t recommend any
for the sound to fade.
of those options.”
“That carries our prayers,” she says firmly.
“I never heard that one,” I say.
“It’s Tibetan,” she says. “We’re all métis,” she says,
“mixed, you know. Like, we suffer the same, we pray
the same.”
“What if I reject that?” I ask and wish I hadn*t. I
know what comes next and it does.
“No problem,” she says calmly. “It just is.”
“But,” her voice rises to a wail, “how did you stand
10
“I waited for time to pass,” I say. “And I wrote
aboutit”
She takes a green crystal from her pocket and rubs
it on the place where I can see her heart pulse in her
throat. “Sometimes this helps,” she says. She hands
it to me and I rub it over my throat. It feels good,
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for the man-woman kind. She died before she taught
A. 4
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lal
Rain tucks the crystal back in her purse. When she =
closes the bag, a puff of air carries the scent of old
, '
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leather and patchouli and herbs.
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“My mom takes Valium,” she says and giggles.
“Different strokes...” I say.
svt
“Well, hopefully...” She grins.
“Write about it,” I say. “Content and quality.”
“Did you really drink?” she asks.
wV;
“I still do,” I say. “Rum and warm milk. Almost
like medicine.”
“Well, like, I don’t want to butt in,” she says, “but
ayaat
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the physical envelope.” She unwinds from the chair
syi
and stretches. Under the layers of clothing and scarves
and sashes, her body is lovely. She tucks her dreads
up into her cap.
“Ms. Green,” she says, “can I ask you something
personal?”
“You can ask,” I say.
“What’s your first name? I mean like if it isn’t se-
U
v
'
å,
cret or ritual, you know, or something like that. I’d
just like to know. I mean, what you told me today, it
was more like we were friends.
“Antoinette,” I say. “Tony, sometimes.” She leans
>T
down, kisses me on the cheek and is gone.
TAA IZRIASA SAN
z e last class is a long one. I ask them to read
~ twenty minutes of their story. I time them. I cannot
> believe how slow the minute hand moves. I don’t
: want to feel this way. By the time the Kid stands in
2 front of the class to read, the setting sun gilds the
~
room. The Kid is wearing a silver dragon on a chain.
,
"` In its claws an opal burns. I have grown numb with
%'
` words. The opal draws my eye. It is an old one. It is
3 fiery and deep, not like the new pale stones built
a from layers ofinferior mineral. The Kid touches the
s dragon once and begins to read.
4 “My name is Mark and sometimes people mis. take me for David Byrne...”
l The Kid's voice shakes. I have watched him grow
] ashen through the other readings, as though the
| `: barrage of words were shrapnel, as though he
| — bled. I wonder if the others see that. Debby Yaz-
a A Ee A
Nancy Wells The Beginning of an Extraordinary Friendsh
crayons on vinyl, 27⁄2"x35".
zie is gone. I read her work. They seemed to be
í íi
bored by it. Their themes frighten me. Each year it
has gotten worse. At the end of his twenty minip, 1989, watercolor
utes, the Kid has let us begin to be curious about
Mark. The sunset is fading. The opal has gone
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UN FENIAN
RAINS اا اRLا
RA FU
7 0 NNER
5 UO 0
ااا
e Ê MH 0 ا18 ۱
flat, like one of the newer, 0 OnEs. 1 نN 7
“Thank you,” I say, and the Kid nods. The others
look up at me. I thank them. All of us realize we are MIAN U
| their things. Rain wipes her eyes with her sleeve. I
ا9
اLN
0
not going to نthe work. They begin to pack ® ۱ i
start down the aisle to collect their papers and see f 0
the Kid rise up to meet me. His fine-boned face is
swollen and red. He slams his paper down on his _
; desk and brushes past me. I hear him stop. Even Ji
Toby looks up. N
RDN wl 1
N E
C۹
The Kid starts to cry. He’s gasping a little. He can’t ا
get his breath to speak. “Do you know?!” he asks.
RR RN
۱ “Do you
have even one idea of what they write about
1 5 H3 0 اin other countries?” He points to Jennifer. She gig- ۹
و1 1 A 7 HHL ۱ gles, then starts to cry. He points to Corey and Steve ا
0 EO ۱ 11 and Jon. Jon says, “Oh maaaaan, lighten up!” The ۹ : 1
1 A Kid points to Toby and repeats the question. 3 ا
ن194
“Do you
have
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i ۱ AMARA
about in
other even
countries?
ااا
O
idea of what they wa ۱
holds his stance. “Tell me,” he says.
100ا
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ا0 {R0
The Kid’s arm drops. In silence the students file ۳
اout. Jennifer touches the Kid gently on the shoulder. 0N 1 ن
1 room. We each gather up our papers and pens and ٨
۱ 7 7 LER 1 HAR various packs and bags and briefcase. The Kid is a RIAN NONNRY ا
1 4 these small ways to putys things
Rain moves be- ۱
to p gS ng right.
۳ 7 RAG ۸ ۱ A little wild-eyed, but he moves with grace through اIR
1 ل0 6 IA tween the Kid and me.
س0 6 1 “Nick, Tony,” she says in a clear voice, “Miguel left ا۳
3. 5 i 0 some chocolate behind, some beautiful Mexican M0
lhe 0 6 LG A 0 i۴ Ê chocolate with cinnamon in it. I know how to make 1 ۱ ب
EA 1 NEC it. He showed me. I could make up some. Would ا1 ۱ 1
iA نۇ
RN I come
smileto my
at room?”
her. 11
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HR nN RL) 4 “OK,” she says, “Yowll love it. It's not like Quik Bf . ا
va! dipa مat all.” 0 e
A: LI “Nick,” I say. “So that’s your name.” I turn back to 1 9
7 ا۲ A 4 Rain. “And yours?” Task. “Is it Rain?’ [1
| HRN TN 0 “ لMy name is Linda,” she says. She touches the back a
| نااااN5 f ٧٣ Kt نof my hand. She touches Nick.
A Ep 0 0 N اshe says. “Please. I'm glad to have you 0
۳ ١ ن1 6 1 visit.” I's gone dark, and we stand in the dim room |}!
۱ a minute. Nick shakes his head as an animal 2 J
1 ۳ اoff pain. And then, together, we go out. * ۱ ا
۱ 1 ۱ ا0 ٍ ا۱ WRN Mary Sojourner is the author of Sisters of the Dream (North- 1 ۲
ا
١ A i!
E. 0 ۸e hi
TTR
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Going Through
Ghosts, and knows
that we are indeed
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Publishing,
Flagstaff,
Ariz.),
is working on a new novel, He 1 ۹۹ ا١ ٭
۲Cede
4 RMEL
71
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- ےس7
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When Yeoun Jae Kang interviewed me in late 1988 I
them to discuss their lives and their art freely. Thirdly,
we hope to make a “sampler” videotape with some of
was a junior majoring in art history at Mills College in
these artists, which would make them more readily accessible to curators, collectors, and critics.
Since no one seemed to have done much research
Oakland, California. As co-director of the Mills Col-
before on this subject, I didn't know quite how to go
about finding material. Moira Roth handed me a stack
lege Asian-American Women’s Art Research Project, I
of general articles on women artists of color and organizations. We talked at length about the problems |
work with Moira Roth, the project’s other director.
might encounter and how to deal with them. She suggested that | contact Margo Machida, a New York artist
who was also collecting material on this subject. Margo
Professor Roth, a feminist art historian and head of
had a list of some twenty artists and organizations. So |
began. | started contacting as many local Asian com-
the art department at Mills College, devises projects
munity organizations as | could locate in order to ask
for names. Mostly through word of mouth, | quickly
began collecting names of West Coast Asian-American
that teach students the how and why of finding the
women artists. Currently I have collected over seventy
names, and we have begun to contact them for material.
missing threads of our country’s artistic fabric. Speci-
I had to learn effective phone skills—how to talk to
people concisely while creating an interest in my proj-
fically, we are working on this project to direct the
ect. While it may seem trivial, it was quite necessary to
buy an answering machine to handle the phone messages. Many times | wished | had a full-time secretary
campus toward becoming a center for research on
to handle the mail and phones. Organization is key. |
set up a filing system for the artists with articles and
multicultural women’s art.
exhibition catalogs. I began to use a computer to store
YJK: How did you go about the research?
and update information and to print out correspon-
DA: There are many aspects to this research project.
dence to organizations and artists.
The first task was to collect material: lists of names and
YJK: What have you learned so far from your research?
addresses, articles, and literature on the artists and
DA: The first thing I realized was the terrible dearth of
slides of their work (which we intend to house in the
information on Asian-American artists in general and
Mills slide library for future reference). Secondly, we
the lack of a functional network system among them.
have begun to conduct interviews with certain artists.
The absence of scholarship on the subject of Asian-
To conduct a good interview requires thinking on sev-
American artists may explain the lack of a network sys-
eral levels at once: Is the tape recorder still working?
tem. They are a fragmented group: Some Asian-Ameri-
What should I ask her next? What did she just say that
can artists work solely within the Asian communities,
seemed significant? Most importantly, trust and rap-
while others work primarily in mainstream art venues
port with the artists must be established in order for
without much contact with other Asian-American artists.
The Art of
Education
== S50
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Tomie Arai Women's Wheel, 1989, mixed
media, 12"x12". Photo: D. James Dee.
How and Why To Research the Work of
Asian-American Women Artists
DAWN AOTANI
Secondly, while I knew there would be diversity within
the Asian-American experience, | wasn't aware of the
specific aspects that | needed to consider in my research, such as whether the artists were Americanborn or had immigrated as children or adults.
Thirdly, the term “Asian-American” is so broad. There
Asian heritage and the degree of assimilation determine different needs, expectations, and experiences.
the boundaries with regard to medium. For example,
in addition to the standard “high art” forms, such as
painting and sculpture, | have come across several
are significantly different groups of Asian-Americans:
Japanese-American women artists working in textile
Japanese-Americans, Chinese-Americans, Vietnamese-
and ceramics. Textile art, such as fiber and weaving,
Americans, Korean-Americans, and so on. I had to
and ceramics, which have deep historical roots in Jap-
focus on the context of each Asian-American artist: her
51 —
Fourthly, I had to reevaluate what | considered to be
anese culture, have often been written off in the West
specific cultural heritage and her family’s circumstances
as merely “craft.” It is easier nowadays to argue for
as well as her personal history. Essentially, the type of
these “crafts” as legitimate art forms because of the
Heresies 25
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efforts made by American feminists in the 1970s on
behalf of this country’s quilts and folk arts.
Finally, I realize that research in this subject must be
need to be on the walls and within the administration.
First, for social and political reasons, the art should be
representative of the public. “Minorities” are an increas-
continued. The primary goal of this project is that it
ingly significant part of the population of the United
should act as a catalyst for further inquiry. This project
States. In the case of the San Francisco area, whites
is not an end in itself but rather a beginning. It’s excit-
now make up less than 50 percent of the population.
ing right now, however, because | am connecting with
(Therefore, the term “minority” now seems inappropri-
people who have heard about the project and want
ate.) Second, simply based on its quality, this art should
lists or want to suggest more names. It's beginning to
be shown.
function as a much-needed network system, and | plan
soon to publish (in some modest form) an AsianAmerican women artists; newsletter. It would be interesting to see these artists create a support system
among themselves and to see the results of such a
support system.
YJK: What are your personal reasons for doing the
project?
DA: Mostly it's my own way of understanding myself.
I am Asian-American and a woman interested in the
arts. | find it significant that | was raised in Hawaii, because Asians are far from being the minority there; we
YJK: Could you talk specifically about the situation of
contemporary Asian-American art?
DA: There is a tendency for financial and critical support to be given to traditional Asian arts over contemporary Asian-American art. This tendency suggests a
stereotype of a “pure” Asian form, that one is either
Asian or American, two separate identities. This situation is reflective of a larger problem with stereotypes in
this country. Financial and critical support needs
to extend out to encompass contemporary AsianAmerican artists; this would then help validate the
voices of Asians who are Americans. Asian-Americans
are not simply Asian nor are they apple-pie American,
are in fact the majority. Consequently | never considered myself as a minority. So when | came to the mainland for college, I was shocked by racial stereotypes. |
was fearful of believing in them and felt it necessary
to prove them wrong. My interest in art led me in search
of Asian-American women artists, who became role
models for me and whose work provided me with many
insights into our particular cultural experience. Essentially, however, | began thinking about all this in 1984,
while still in Hawaii, when | wrote a senior paper, “Assimilation of the Asian-American Female,” based on
Maxine Hong Kingston’s novel 7he Woman Warrior,
which was my first introduction to an Asian-American
woman's voice.
but to varying degrees they are a blend of both cultures;
they can never ignore one or the other. Then there is
the problem of the stereotype of “the Asian-American.”
For example, in professional and educational spheres,
there is the stereotype that Asian-Americans excel only
in math and sciences. Well, what about those AsianAmericans who are interested in the arts?
In late 1987 I found this touching passage by Alice
Walker, which tells of her search for the unmarked grave
of Zora Neale Hurston. Hurston was a major black
woman writer who died unrecognized and whose beautiful work and life influenced Walker greatly.
We are a people. A people do not throw their geniuses away. And if
they are thrown away, it is our duty as artists and as witnesses for the
YJK: What is the general current situation of support,
future to collect them again for the sake of our children, and, if neces-
financial and critical, for women artists of color?
sary, bone by bone.
DA: Public money in support of the arts tends to go to
(Alice Walker, /n Search of Our Mother's Gardens, [New York: Harcourt
those organizations that support predominantly white
Brace Jovanovich, 1983.1)
male artists. When financial and critical support is given
For me, there was something very inspirational in Alice
to artists other than white male artists, it is usually given
Walker's determined efforts to validate the achievements
to white women and/or male nonwhite artists. So here,
and existence of another black woman writer. | want to
with women artists of color, we have a situation of a
do the same for Asian-American women artists: to find
double minority status; consequently they tend to be
these women and publish their voices. X
overlooked a great deal. In general, the problem with
color or ethnic diversity in museums includes not only
the color of the artists but also that of the administrative
staff. There are several reasons why more “minorities”
Dawn Aotani was born in Honolulu, Hawaii, in 1965. She
recently graduated from Mills College in Oakland, California,
with a B.A. in art history.
The Art of
Education
— 52
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S O M E
Women, Art,
and Cross-
Cultural Issues
day with a slide blitz of work by women
paper strips surrounding the fountain
of color (and by a few white women who
that is the core of the campus. Two big
had really thought about the issues); then
dice floated in the water, and the board
we discussed readings or films and vid-
game’s squares dealt in words and im-
eos seen. Each student was required to
ages with race, sex, and other social is-
write three letters: first, to herself, ex-
sues in the context of events at and
For a seminar called “Women, Art, and
plaining who she was from a cultural
around the university. A videotape was
Cross-Cultural Issues” taught for one se-
viewpoint and what her experiences
made of the event.
mester in 1989 at the University of Colo-
around race and culture had been; sec-
rado in Boulder, I had to make my own
ond, to an artist whose work I had
(huge) reader of articles, artists’ state-
shown, kind of an imaginary studio in-
organized in Boulder for two years (and
ments, and catalogue texts because there
terview; third, to her granddaughter, who
intend to continue). It’s called “Mixing
were virtually no texts that dealt with
might be of a different or mixed race.
these issues together. The required books
The final requirement was to execute,
artists of color—an African-American, an
were Heresies “Third World Women” and
collaboratively, an activist project on cam-
Asian-American, a Latina, and a Native
“Racism Is the Issue” (nos. 4 and 8, 1978
pus, to take the issues we had discussed
American —to make a small exhibition;
LUCY R. LIPPARD
and 1979); Autobiography: In Her Own
out ofthe classroom and into the broader
Finally, one student group worked
with me on a two-day symposium I have
It Up” and brings to campus four women
speak; do workshops; radio and video
interviews; interact with students in and
Image (the catalogue of'a traveling show
community. One group “seeded” bath-
curated by Howardena Pindell that orig-
rooms in various departments with
out of studios; and generally provide
inated at INTAR, New York City); and the
graffiti about racism and sexism and then
voices rarely heard on this campus. (In
two issues of Cultural Critique (nos. 6
recorded the “responses.” Another did
1988 the artists were Beverly Buchanan,
a piece on index cards mixed with the
Amalia Mesa-Bains, Yong Soon Min, and
and 7, 1987) that focused on “The Nature and Context of Minority Discourse.”
The class was too big (twenty-five) to
conduct as a seminar, so I started each
usual fare on the Student Union bulletin
Jaune Quick-To-See Smith; in 1989, Judy
board. The most ambitious project was
Baca, Robbie McCauley, Jolene Rickard,
a huge “monopoly game” on brown
and May Sun.) These personal informal
encounters were probably more effective than anything I did in class. X
Lucy R. Lippard is a writer and activist who lives
in New York and Boulder, Colorado. She recently
completed a book for Pantheon called Mixed
Blessings.
Aesthetic Questions
RUTH BASS & MARSHA CUMMINS
Aesthetic questions were used to structure an interdisciplinary course in aesthetics developed by several Bronx Community College faculty members with
the support ofa grant from the National
Endowment for the Humanities. The
course was structured around three
major questions: Are truth and beauty
synonymous? Does art reflect or influence society? To what extent does order
or chaos in art reflect human nature? The
questions, each of which was framed
with three subquestions, were discussed
in relation to works of art, architecture,
music, poetry, dance, drama, and aesthetic theories.
Sara Pasti
The format of using questions rather
sT S919339 H
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S O M E
than topic headings makes clear to students that there are many points of view
ties fellow in The Community Colleges Project
public relations department. The assign-
under a grant from the Andrew W. Mellon
ment read:
Foundation.
—not necessarily a single “correct”
“This year marks the 100th anniversary
ofthe Aunt Jemima trademark and de-
one—and makes for lively discussions.
Marsha Cummins, Ph.D., has been a professor
The course has been given three times
and is currently being revised.
Following is a sample of questions, artists, and theoretical writings to think
of English at Bronx Community College since
1971. She is extremely involved with the Writing
Across the Curriculum movement, which arose
Milling Company packaged flour, the
first ready-made mix of any kind ever
out of a need for greater literacy, fluency, and
comprehension in a nonwriting age.
about:
Can/should artists record the world
sign, formulated by two men in Saint
Joseph, Missouri, to market their Davis
developed. Their fictive character of
Aunt Jemima has become the most te-
nacious of ethnic stereotypes. Write a
short (approximately five-page) paper
African America:
in which you consider the social, economic, and historical factors that ac-
Theoretical works: Plato, The Republic;
Images, Ideas, and
count for the origins and persistence
Susan Sontag, On Photography; José Or-
Realities
of everyday experience?
tega y Gasset, “Esthetics on the Streetcar” in Phenomenology and Art; John
Dewey, Art As Experience: The Mustard
Seed Garden Manual of Painting.
EVA GRUDIN
Modersohn-Becker, Pablo Picasso, Marie
compare the four changing images of
plain why the images change in the way
they do. Consider, too, what in the
Eva Gruðdin teaches African, European, and
African-American art at Williams College in
Massachusetts. She mounted the exhibition and
Artists: African tribal artists, Paula
of this advertising image. In addition,
Aunt Jemima provided for you and ex-
wrote the catalogue for Stitching Memories:
African-American Story Quilts, which traveled
course of time has not changed.”
This topic was the first in twenty years
of essay assignments that excited my students enough to have many say their per-
from the Williams College Museum to the Studio
Laurencin, Georgia O'Keeffe, Phillip
Pearlstein, Audrey Flack, Janet Fish, Alice
Neel, Mary Frank, John De Andrea,
Reginald Hildebrand, her colleague in the history department, devised this interdisciplinary
course as a means to study the experiences of
Duane Hanson, Fumio Yoshimura, Rob-
Blacks in America.
ceptions ofthe world had been changed.
Devising the art-historical aspects of
this course proved difficult for me, however, because I came to this material the
ert Mapplethorpe.
“African America: Images, Ideas, and Re-
hard way—as an autodidact. Books on
Does an artist have an obligation to
alities,” a course first taught in Fall 1989
American art generally make no men-
her/his ethnic background?
at Williams College in Massachusetts, was
tion of art by Black Americans. These
designed to investigate images of'and by
“comprehensive surveys” ignore even
Theoretical work: Langston Hughes,
“The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain,” The Nation, June 23, 1926.
Artists: Betye Saar, Romare Bearden,
Jacob Lawrence, Alma W. Thomas, Faith
Ringgold, Howardena Pindell, Sam
Gilliam, Maxine Hong Kingston,
Bernard Malamud, Jimmy Durham, Kay
Walkingstick.
Do works of art influence ideas and
behavior?
Theoretical work: Monroe C. Beardsley, “Moral and Critical Judgments” in
Aesthetics: Problems in the Philosophy of
Blacks. The class of mostly juniors inves-
monly portrayed, the people who controlled these images, and to what end.
Paintings, photographs, advertisements,
and films were the primary documents.
Discarding the usual hierarchies, the
can art. They are not. And so I have had
peck method ofresearch. To spare some
California Raisins, and Robert Mapple-
of you my early flailing about, I’d like to
thorpe’s contortionists were given equal
share some readings. x
consideration.
The essay assignment for the course
concerned racial stereotypes and as-
American history. The students were
given four pictures of Aunt Jemima. One
Lee, Judy Chicago, Hannah Wilke, Hung
image from the turn of the century and
critic, and painter. She is currently a humani-
should be familiar to Ph.D.s in Ameri-
to rely more or less on the hunt-and-
sumed a basic grounding in African-
Ruth Bass, Ph.D., is a professor of art, art
Bannister, Aaron Douglas, and William
culture: Faith Ringgold’s quilts, the
Pablo Neruda, Chinua Achebe, Spike
Frida Kahlo. X
reputations. Edmonia Lewis, Edward
Johnson are just a few of the names that
class freely mingled fine art and popular
Artists: June Jordan, Imamu Baraka,
Leon Golub, Sue Coe, Diego Rivera,
those Black artists who bucked the odds
tigated the kinds of images most com-
Criticism.
Liu, Oyvind Fahlstrom, Ida Applebroog,
TE
Museum of Harlem in 1989-90. Grudin and
another from the 1930s came from the
catalogue Ethnic Notions. The other two
images, the 1968-89 Jemima and the latest pearl-earringed version, were provided by the Quaker Oats Company’s
Recommended Readings
in African-American
Art and Images
Important Resources
The Hatch-Billops Collection, 491 Broadway, 7th Floor, New York, N.Y. 10012.
An archive of Black American cultural
history that serves as a research library and includes slides, tapes, pho-
tographs, and exhibition catalogues.
American Visions:The Magazine of AfroAmerican Culture , published by the Visions
JO VV RYL
r
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S O M E
h
Foundation, Frederick Douglass House
. “Art or Propaganda.” The Critical
— Capitol Hill, Smithsonian Institution,
Temper of Alain Lockeed. Jeffrey C. Stewart.
Washington, D.C. 20560. Ask them to in-
New York: Garland, 1983, pp. 27-28.
form you of their periodic conferences on
issues in Black American art. Some of
the past conferences are available on
audiocassette.
General
Driskell, David C. “Art by Blacks: Its Vital Role
in the U.S. Culture.” Smithsonian (Oct.
Schmidt-Campbell, Mary. Harlem Renaissance:
Art of Black America, with essays by David
Driskell, David Levering Lewis, and Deborah Willis Ryan. New York: Studio Mu-
seum in Harlem-Abrams, 1987.
Schuyler, George S. “The Negro Hokum.”
The Nation, Vol. 122, No. 3180 (June 1926):
662-663.
1976): 86—93.
———. Hidden Heritage: Afro-American Art,
1800-1950. San Francisco: Association,
1985.
. Two Centuries of Black American Art.
New York: Knopf, 1976.
Fine, Elsa Honig. The Afro-American Artist: A
Search for Identity. Holt, Rinehart, Winston,
1973. Reprint, New York: Hacker Books,
1982.
Porter, James A. Modern Negro Art. New York:
Dryden Press, 1943.
“Racism” issue, Heresies, Vol. 4., No. 3,
Issue 15 (1982).
Harlem Renaissance
Historical Background
Dubois, W. E. B. “Of Our Spiritual Strivings.”
Crisis (Oct. 1926.)
Hughes, Langston. “The Negro Artist and the
Locke, Alain. “The American Negro As Art-
cisco: Quilt Digest Press, 1989.
and Crafts. Jackson: University Press of
Mississippi, 1983.
Grudin, Eva Ungar. Stitching Memories: AfricanAmerican Story Quilts. Williamstown, Mass.:
Williams College Museum of Art, 1990.
Leon, Eli. Who’d a Thought It: Improvisation in
African-American Quiltmaking. San Francisco: San Francisco Craft and Folk Art
Museum, 1987.
1986, pp. 363-371.
Livingston, Jane, and John Beardsley, with a
Ellison, Ralph. Introduction to Shadow and
Act. New York: Random House, 1964.
Art in America 1930-1980. Jackson: Cor-
Huggins, Nathan I., Martin Kilson, and Daniel
coran Gallery of Art/University Press of
Fox, eds. Key Issues in the Afro-American
Experience, vols. I, II. New York: Harcourt
Brace Jovanovich, 1971.
Wesley, Charles H. “Creating and Maintaining
an Historical Tradition.” Journal of Negro
History (Jan. 1964):13-33.
contribution by Regenia Perry. Black Folk
Mississippi, 1982.
Vlach, John Michael. The Decorative Tradition
in the Decorative Arts. Cleveland: Cleveland
Museum of Art, 1978.
Wilson, James L. Clementine Hunter: American
Folk Artist. Gretna, La.: Pelican Publishing,
1988.
White Relations in the American South Since
Emancipation. New York: Oxford Unversity
Black Women Artists
Press, 1986.
Bontemps, Arna Alexander, ed. Forever Free.
African-American Folk
Art and Crafts
ist.” The Critical Temper of Alain Lockeed,
Jeffrey C. Stewart. New York: Garland, 1983.
and Quilts on American Society. San Fran-
Farris, William, ed. Afro-American Folk Arts
Huggins, New York: Library of America,
Racial Mountain.” The Nation, Vol. 122,
No. 3181 (June 23, 1926): 692-694.
Hearts and Hands: The Influence of Women
In W. E. B. DuBois’ Writings, ed. Nathan
Williamson, Joel. Rage for Order: Black and
DuBois, W. E. B. “Criteria for Negro Art.” The
Craft. New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold,
1971.
Ferraro, Pat, Elaine Hedges, and Julie Silber.
Chase, Judith Wragg. Afro-American Art and
Alexandria, Va.: Stevenson, 1980. (An
exhibition of art by African-American
women 1862-1980).
Brown, Kay. “Where We At: Black Women
S7 SƏ1S939H
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Artists.” Feminist Art Journal, Vol. 1 (April
1972): 25.
Cliff, Michelle. “Object into Subject: Some
Thoughts on the Work of Black Women
Artists” In Visibly Female: Feminism and Art
Today, ed. Hilary Robinson, London:
Camden Press, 1987, pp. 140-157.
Wallace, Michele, ed. Faith Ringgold: Twenty
Years of Painting, Sculpture and Performance.
New York: Studio Museum in Harlem,
1984.
Images of Blacks
Benberry, Cuesta. “White Perceptions of Blacks
in Quilts and Related Media.” Uncoverings
(1983): 59-74.
Berkeley Arts Center. Ethnic Notions: Black
Images in the White Mind. 1982. Berkeley
Arts Center, 1275 Walnut Street, Berkeley,
Cal. 94709. Exhibition catalogue of Afro-
American stereotypes and caricatures, with
essays by Robbin Henderson, Leon
Litwack, Erskine Peters, introduction by
Janette Faulkner.
Dalton, Karen C. C., and Peter H. Wood.
Winslow Homer’s Images of Blacks: The Civil
War and Reconstruction Years. Introduction
by Richard J. Powell. Austin: Menil Collection/University of Texas Press, 1988.
Honour, Hugh. The Image of the Blacks in
Wheat, Ellen Harkins. Jacob Lawrence, Amerisippi, 1983, pp. 27—63.
Western Art, vol. IV. Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1989.
Parry, Ellwood. The Image of the Indian and the
Black Man in American Art: 1500—1900.
New York: Braziller, 1974.
Vintage Books, 1984.
Vlach, John. “The Shotgun House: An American Architectural Legacy.” In Afro-American
Photography
Folk Arts and Crafts, ed. William Ferris
Jackson: University Press of Mississippi,
Marks, Laura U. “Reinscribing the Self: An
Interview with Clarissa Sligh.” Afterimage,
Vol. 17, No. 5 (Dec. 1989).
Moutoussany-Ashe, Jeanne. Viewfinders: Black
Women Photographers. New York: Dodd,
Mead, 1986.
Willis-Thomas, Deborah. Black Photographers,
1840-1940: An Illustrated Bio-bibliography.
New York: Garland, 1985.
. Black Photographers, 1940—1988: An
Illustrated Bio-bibliography. New York: Garland, 1989.
and Howard Dodson. Black Photog— 56
raphers Bear Witness: 100 Years of Social
Protest. Williamstown, Mass.: Williams College Museum of Art, 1989.
African Influences on
African-American Art
“African Symbolism in Afro-American Quilts.”
1983, pp. 274—295,
Wahlman, Maude Southwell. “AfricanAmerican Quilts: Tracing the Aesthetic
Principles.” The Clarion, Vol. 14, No. 2
(Spring 1989): 44-54.
68-76.
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Thompson, Robert Farris. “African Influence
on the Art of the United States.” In Afro-
versity of Washington Press, 1986.
Art at Mid-Century
Ellison, Ralph. “The Art of Romare Bearden.”
In Chant of Saints: A Gathering of AfroAmerican Literature, Art and Scholarship, ed.
Michael S. Harper and Robert B. Stepto.
Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1979,
pp. 156-165.
Locke, Alain. “Up Till Now.” In The Critical
Temper of Alain Locke, ed. Jeffrey C. Stewart. New York: Garland, 1983, pp. 191-194.
19th-Century Artists
Hartigan, Lynda Roscoe. Sharing Traditions:
Five Black Artists in Nineteenth Century
America: From the Collections of the National
Museum of American Art. Washington, D.C.:
Smithsonian Institution Press, 1985.
Richardson, Marilyn. “Vita Edmonia Lewis.”
Harvard Magazine (March/April 1986).
Weekley, Carolyn J., et al. Joshua Johnson:
Freeman and Early American Portrait Painter.
Baltimore: Maryland Historical Society,
1987.
1930s and 1940s
African Arts, Vol. 20, No. 1 (Nov. 1986):
Locke, Alain, “A Note on African Art.” Oppor-
can Painter. Seattle: Seattle Museum/Uni-
. Flash of the Spirit: African and AfroAmerican Art and Philosophy. New York:
Hayes, Vertis. “The Negro Artist Today.” In Art
for the Millions, ed. Francis O'Connor.
Boston: New York Graphic Society, 1973,
pp. 210—212.
Monroe, Gerald M. “The ’30s: Art, Ideology
1960s and Early 1970s
Davis, Douglas. “What Is Black Art?” Newsweek
(June 22, 1970): 89.
Perry, Bruce, ed. Malcolm X: The Last Speeches.
New York: Pathfinder, 1989.
Schmidt-Campbell, Mary. Tradition and Conflict:
Images of a Turbulent Decade, 1963—1973.
New York: Studio Museum in Harlem,
1985.
Smith, Frank. “Afri-Cobra: Twenty Years Later.”
Drum (May 1988).
Contemporary Trends
Jones, Kellie. “Interview with David Hammons.” Art Papers: Covering the Arts in the
Southeast, Vol. 12, No. 4 (July/Aug. 1988):
39-42.
“Painting It Black: African American Artists in
American Folk Arts and Crafts, ed. William
and the WPA.” Art in America (Nov./Dec.
Search ofa New Aesthetic.” The Washing-
Ferris. Jackson: University Press of Missis-
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ton Post (Dec. 10, 1989). x
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How to Make an
HExcellent
a T aTeacher
Bwn
7 BARBARA A. ST. JOHN (
Select Poke Sauté reduce poking
one Grade A student with a
repeatedly with state tacher
B.A. (Many grade A students
competencies.
themselves into math/
science/engineering or
Remove
student from ed classroom
to substitute a grade C
and place in elementary/
student.)
secondary classroom.
student in large, statefunded teachers' college pot
a cup of observation.
Repeat
straining, and
grate
with thirty to thirty-five
teeny-boppers in elementary/secondary classroom.
doneness by
straining
student with cheesecloth
Student should be half baked
by Christmas.
procedure until eyes are
glazed and brain is shrunk.
with tests to throw student
off balance.
classroom.
made of lesson plans.
red tape.
Stir
Return
to elementary/secondary
Make first check for
Add
after putting through ricer of
Vigorously
1ncrease
amount of lesson plan
M.B.A. pots. You may have
Place
in the ed classroom,
with ed research written requirements.
have a tendency to throw
Allow to rest
as with yeast bread.
Grab
About June 15th
check Ê$or
doneness.
Student should be mentally
and physically limp.
Stuff
cored teaching credential in
mouth. Student is then
Place
a handful of strategies, as
Repeat
ready to be placed in school
many as you can, and wrap
above procedure
district pot and is now an
in education classroom.
student tightly.
except
Excellent Teacher.
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The photograph leads the mind
to the actual world...
—58
If it is of a nude, it will
make one think of women, not art.
Education
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m
Hannah Wilke created a female iconography in the 19504. She is a conceptual artist working in scu {ptural materials, photography, painting, and performance art.
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The ways of poetry are many, and whacking
Yes, I do mean to be catty.
words against thighs, spotting clean sheets
I am tired of male see-my-pecker poets
who always seem to get published. Dirty Boys
of academic journals with sperm images,
from Hoboken to Carmel-by-the-Sea :
or rimming out the thought-infused mind
don’t have to lift a metaphor or run a thought
with tight little words like cunt
along a line to get some buddy editor
must be among the trendy ways of getting off
a load of committee-infested days
to celebrate every late night emission
they care to spill. Call it penis envy,
and middle-age nights. Or maybe these
call me the castrating female
are the angry young poets of our day
with little to shoot off but their mouths.
or, worse, a prude. I stopped
turning somersaults without my pants on
Either way, I for one am tired
when I was three.
of well-entrenched open-trench-coat poets.
Je uA
X
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PAP SHEET
(cherished advice from teachers and family)
Why did you give Santa a black beard?
Santa doesn't have a black beard.
"p"
PAMBLA DESIRES
AN ARTIST TO BE
A PORTRAIT BY P.S.
What are those yellow lines coming out
of the sun? You made it look as if the
sun has whiskers.
SOME DAY YOU WILL SEE
PAMELA SHOEMAKER 327 HICKORY LANE HADDONFIELD, N.J.
We don't have a real art program, but
we do have an art teacher who gives
classes twice a week,
atete
Saint Margarets School
Waterbury, Connecticut
The honors of graduation are conferred upan '
Cj
Pamela huntshoemaker
in testimony that she has completed ‘Ehe presrribed
conrear of study and is therefore awarded this diploma
the ninth day of Junerase
You may go to any college you want,
but if you want to go to art school,
you have to live at home and go in
. Philadelphia. If you still want to go
3 after 2 years of college, then we'll
PRAESES- ET- CURATORES-COLLEGII-VASSARINI
IN: NOVI -EBORACI-FINIBUS
OMNIBUS-HAS-LITTERAS-PERLECTURIS- SALUTEM
NOTUM'SIT: PAMELA • HUNT © SHOEMAKER "AD -LITTERARUM -AC
SCIENTIARUM STUDIA - ET - AD - CETERA - HUJUSCE ACADEMIAE- OMNIA OFFICIA
DILIGENTER FELICITERQUE -INCUBUISSE
QUAMOBREM -PRO -AUCTORITATE NOBIS - COMMISSA - FACULTATE - APPROBANTE
EAM-TITULO -GRADUQUE -QUI -APPELLARI -SOLET
ARTIUM -BACCALAUREUS
CONDECORAVIMUS ` ET- OMNIA -JURA -HONORES - INSIGNIA UBIQUE- GENTIUM
Twenty years old is too young for a
girl to be on her own in New York.
If you want to quit college and go to
art school, you can live at home and
go in Philadelphia
OOA
AD-EUNDEM -PERTINENTIA-IN-EAM-CONTULIMUS
CUJUS - REI - HAE -MEMBRANULAE -CUM ` SIGILLO -ACADEMICO -ET - CHIROGRAPHO
PRAESIDIS -TESTIMONIO SINT
EX-AEDIBUS-ACADEMICIS- DIE- QUINTO -IUNII-ANNO-DOMINI-MDCCCCLXVI
fter four years at a good college,
you should be able to support yourself., If you still want to go to art
school, you. should be able to pay for
it yourself
The COOPER UNION forthe Advancement of Science and Art s
m why do you have to quit that wonder-
HAS SATISFACTORILY COMPLETED THE PRESCRIBED COURSE OF STUDY IN
THE COOPER UNION SCHOOL OF ART AND ARCHITECTURE AND 1S HEREBY AWARDED THIS CERTIFICATE
ful job togo to art school? Why can't
you just take a couple of courses at
the Art Student's League?
We11l if you want to be an artist, all
I can say is tħat you had better find
yourself a rich husband or one who's
a famous artist himself, because no
woman gets anywhere as an artist without one or the other.
Of course in my day people thought an
MFA killed an artist's imagination,
r sister tells me that now no
Pamela Shoemaker Rap Sheet, 1989, pen and ink.
Pamela Shoemaker is a New York artist whose work appears in public spaces.
Heresies 25
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cations ask which college you attended?)
Some colleges are markers for being the
boss not the employee, the manager instead of the managed. |t is in the mindset rather than the academic program of
the institution. These are the historically
From what | have learned so far, sociol-
thought to be a way to “better” oneself.
white elitist institutions, which include not
ogy is the methodological study of how
When education is looked at in terms of
only the Ivy League schools (Harvard, Yale,
people interact within society and how so-
what it does in society, the term “better”
Columbia, Dartmouth, Princeton, and the
ciety acts upon the individual. Sociology
means to raise one's class and economic
like) but also their Seven Sisters counter-
helps people explore patterns in society
status. However, those who already have
parts: Smith, Radcliffe, Wellesley, Mount
that some would like to believe don't exist,
power, wealth, privilege, and status actively
Holyoke, Vassar, Bryn Mawr, and Barnard.
like how “decent,” “normal” people's ac-
want to keep it. Not only do individuals
Other prestigious institutions such as
tions can and do support the extreme ac-
act to maintain their own personal power,
Swarthmore, Amherst, Duke, and Stanford
“That’s just your opinion” that are so often
but groups act as a collective to maintain
provide the next level in the hierarchy. You
used to choke off dialogue rather than con-
the status quo distribution of privilege,
know the names. They are the ones you
tinue it.
wealth, and power. This not necessarily
are supposed to be impressed by when
Both more and less than a sociological
calculated or even conscious group main-
someone says she/he graduated from
study, this article is an effort to integrate
tenance of status quo is called hegemony.
there. When interviewing for a job, it is dis-
my semirural, working-class Black/white
In a supposedly class-free capitalist coun-
turbing to note the increased respect in
background with my experiences as a stu-
try, education becomes the system of ac-
the tone of the interviewer when | say |
dent at Bryn Mawr College and with the
cess to power and privilege.
am a Bryn Mawr graduate. One of the
tions of such groups as the Ku Klux Klan,
how women are taught to disempower
themselves, or how the educational system is not much more egalitarian than it
was in the fifties. Sociology provides a way
to get beyond defensive remarks such as
functioning mechanisms of the educa-
The general rationale goes like this: The
functions of hegemonic control is to con-
United States is a meritocracy where you
earn success through your abilities.
White
ities so that you will be more qualified for
higher-paying, more prestigious jobs.
Elitist
Some schools are “better” than others, by
virtue of having “better” professors and
vince people that there are no mecha-
whole. | am the first in my family to attend
“better” academics to “better” prepare
nisms of control at work, nothing is hap-
an lvy League—level school. My family is
you. Prepare you for what? Ah, that must
pening, merit won the day. It also teaches
so proud of me that I used to feel guilty for
remain vague if American society is to be
the specially privileged that they deserve
the feelings of dissatisfaction and confu-
tional system in the United States as a
= 62
Schooling enhances and hones those abil-
viewed as classless and egalitarian! In ac-
privilege and have earned the right to suc-
sion that would strike me just when | was
tuality, schooling tracks you into various
cess and special treatment.
supposed to be so happy. I know that |
levels of the socioeconomic hierarchy, de-
am not alone in this contradiction.
pending on which school you attend.
cause, though they allow People of Color
(Haven't you ever wondered why job appli-
to participate, they remain invested in
What is education anyway? It is usually
I call these colleges “white elitist” be-
maintaining a class, economic, racial, and
sexual hierarchy with able-bodied white
DENISE TUGGLE
ges
corporate middle-to-upper-class men on
top. Though they allow token participation,
the actual number of People of Color is
kept at a relatively small percentage of the
The Art of
Education
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63 —
college campuses across the country dur-
herst, Dartmouth, Brown, and MIT. It is a
ple in control—professors and administra-
ing the last few years. Look back in the
common saying at Bryn Mawr that the
tors—are somehow always white. These
newspapers and you will see that most of
school teaches you to be a white man,
contradictions are what I think has caused
the outbreaks happened at prestigious
which I always thought was funny, since |
the outbreak of racial dissatisfaction on
campuses such as Smith, Stanford, Am-
have never wanted to be one, but I do
community, and the vast majority of peo-
Heresies 25
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to
cause we will “fit in well” at such-and-such
want security and not to be discriminated
social rareness probably IS the specific
against. In American society, that is a privi-
overt conscious reason | was accepted, |
school, which implies that we won't make
lege reserved for white men.
think that there are larger sociological
white students, professors, and adminis-
forces at play here. I have noticed some
trators confront their white-skin privilege.
instead of writing about it, someone usu-
rather remarkable similarities in all the very
We will not question the very fundamental
ally breaks in about this time and says that
different Students of Color | have met in
purpose of the college in perpetuating
I don't know what | am talking about be-
lvy League circles.
When I am talking about this subject
cause “Look, there are more nonwhites
For example, | began asking American
White Supremacy. In fact, many of us,
when we have problems, will attribute
here than there were twenty years ago. So-
Students of Color, at random, three
them to our own laziness, poor time man-
ciety is changing and growing, and why
questions:
agement, and/or stupidity, just like white
are you here anyway if you feel this way?”
This is a specific example of the hegemonic process in action. Remember, nothing is going on, and we deserve success. |
1. Is your neighborhood at home mostly
white?
2. Was your high school mostly white?
3. Are either of your parents white?
find it interesting that | occasionally get
this reaction from People of Color as well
For many of the People of Color | have
met outside Ivy League circles, these are
as whites.
really bizarre questions. However, among
—
people. If we fail, it is because we did
poorly, not because the institution is oriented toward a white middle-class existence, which often relegates us to the role
of Other. Many Black students have but
J Dv rm © mN rmm » >» wv a
little historical knowledge of their heritage
or a romanticized notion and/or selective
memory.
the students at white elitist colleges, the
vast majority have answered yes to at /east
two out of these three questions! Before |
came to college, | had met only one other
Black person with a white parent, and yet
Yo what is going
—— 64
t is important to
in the school year 1988—89 at Bryn Mawr,
on for Students of Color anyway? It is not
at least ten out of the forty-seven Black
look at the exceptions resulting from the
enough to say that we are all Oreos, Ba-
American women had a white parent. The
three questions. The responses of Asians
and Caribbeans follow a pattern, which
nanas, and Apples—that is, brown, yellow,
point is, even if we are not whitewannabes,
and red on the outside and white on the
a large part of our social orientation has
inside—because not all of us are, at least
been white-defined. In short, many of the
practices at work. One does not have to
not consciously. Why was |, a loud, proud
People of Color who choose and get ac-
alienate oneself and one's culture if one's
brings me to another aspect of hegemonic
culture can be fit into a white-defined
Black woman, accepted by all the schools
cepted to white elitist colleges are pro-
to which I applied, including three Seven
foundly white-identified. This is a dialec-
mold. Many Asian cultures have their own
Sisters? It certainly wasn't my essay saying
tical relationship. Â
work ethic, which allows them to work
how great Malcolm X was, and how | want
On one level, schools are choosing the
to be like him! At first I thought it was
“whitest” People of Color to attend the very
more easily within the white-defined Protestant work ethic. One theory on why
significant numbers of Asian-Americans
simply because Black women who gradu-
schools that will train them further to main-
ate as valedictorians from New England
tain the white-dominated hierarchy. (This
have been successful in this educational
private schools are rare and that made me
is called being “successful” and “hard
system is that they do not have to give up
a pretty hot item. | truly don't believe that
working.”) We are told repeatedly that we
I would be here today if I had stayed at
are “special,” which implies “not like the
and Native American people do in order
Brewer Public High School.! Though my
rest of our people.” We are chosen be-
to “fit in.”
as much of their culture as Afro-American
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OU
Among Black people at Bryn Mawr and
it seems, are/were attracted to the idea of
Haverford I have noticed large percentages
the automatic respect derived from atten-
of Caribbean students. This is important
dance at the “right” school. Never mind
because there is tension in the Black com-
that this authority is based in class and
munity between Afro-American Blacks
race hierarchies.
especially women's colleges, have a lot to
and Caribbean Blacks.” The gist of the tension is that Caribbean Blacks tend to view
offer Women of Color, but if we go in blind,
then we are vulnerable to the profound
American Blacks as lazy and shiftless, and
pressures to “fit in,” and thus lose our-
American Blacks tend to view Caribbean
Blacks as stuck-up, cold, and money hun-
hite elitist wom-
gry. What appears to be happening is a
en's colleges are interesting phenomena,
cultural clash revealing that Caribbean
and not nearly so depressing as white
Black people have an ethic of their own,
elitist men’s or co-ed colleges. As l've said,
similar to the Protestant work ethic.^ Inter-
the point of a white elitist college is to in-
national students are another issue. They
doctrinate students with the feeling that
tend to come from the ruling or upper-
they are important and deserving of au-
middle classes of their country and there-
thority. This seems to me a great message
fore have a class identification that is often
to give to women and especially Women
viewed as the key to “helping them
of Color! So in among the classist, racist,
to adjust.”
sexist, homophobic messages of white
The other part of this dialectical rela-
n the final analysis, I believe that white elitist institutions,
elitist women's institutions, there is an em-
selves. | still want security, and I don't think
l or anyone should have to sacrifice one's
struggle! X
self or culture for it. Join me in the good
1| transferred to a private school and took two senior years because Reaganomics messed up my
Social Security. See, it would pay for an extra year
of high school but not my first year of college. Ironically, | graduated first in my private school class
with the same grades that had put me in only the
top 20 percent of my public school class.
^In response to “Are either of your parents white?”
one Puerto Rican man said, “Yes, both of them.
Puerto Ricans are white.” A nearby friend of his
wanted to know why I was asking such questions,
tionship is that white-identified People of
powering subversion possible, but not in-
Color are more likely to pick white elitist
evitable. For Women of Color this right to
colleges than People of Color who identify
authority is a very important message, be-
with their own culture.” For example, when
cause in this racist patriarchal society we
I was looking at colleges, my counselor
have been taught to get our strongest iden-
told me point blank, “Denise, women get
tification from our racial culture.. If we view
a better education at women’s colleges
our strength and support as coming solely
cestors experienced a different history in the Car-
and Black people get a better education
from our ethnic culture, then we will be
States.
at Black colleges, so you should apply to
and are vulnerable to the sexism of men.
and my Puerto Rican friend got very angry at my
explanation. “Look,” he said, “I am not conforming
to anyone! My philosophy on life is he who dies
with the most toys wins!” He turned his back on me
in a huff when | pointed out that such a statement
fits beautifully into white middle-class yuppiedom.
` Afro-American Blacks’ ancestors were brought
straight over from Africa. Caribbean Blacks’ an-
ibbean before choosing to come to the United
^ Afro-Americans’ work ethic takes second place to
some of both.” Terror ran through me at
(Compulsory heterosexuality and patri-
the mere thought of going to a Black col-
archy know no color lines.) For Women of
lege. When | got to Bryn Mawr, | was sur-
Color, learning to value ourselves as wom-
the many problems that have become part of our
historical and cultural experience as a result of
once being America’s slaves, and to the white atti-
prised to hear from friends how their
en gives us perspective both on our rela-
parents had actually forbidden them to
tionships to Men of Color and to women
apply to Black colleges. Parental disap-
with white-skin privilege. It is unfortunate
tudes and social structures that persist even today.
This seems to be true among white people also,
proval was the second most frequently
that it is so often white-identified Women
cited reason for not going to a Black col-
of Color who get to participate in this pro-
lege. The first reason was an amorphous
cess, since ethnically identified Women of
fear of an all-Black educational setting.
Color could do so much more with this
Like myself, many young People of Color,
empowerment.
but it is much more subtle, because so many
65 —
Euro-Americans have lost so much of their past
and identify themselves as just “white.” Ethnicity
among white people seems to be something to be
overcome.
Denise Tuggle graduated from Bryn Mawr College in the spring of 1989. She currently supports herself as a life model but will be moving
into the field of social work in the fall of 1990.
Heresies 25
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igı
th
fru
libi
ph
she
hel
OVE
pel
A r t
social, political, and economic factors and integrating
Two questions must be asked of any program in art
the findings into artmaking practice is rarely taught in
education: Does it give students the tools with which to
make significant visual statements, and does it provide
SHEILA PINKEL
art departments. It is assumed that art education con-
them with the ability to decipher, function in, and con-
sists of learning a complement of techniques; rarely
tribute to the world around them? In seeking answers |
does this process include exploration of ideas through
have located two subject areas that are not currently
personal observation and research. What is particu-
included in most art school curricula: 1) practice in
larly distressing about this fragmented situation is that
integrating personal observation and analysis of con-
from the very beginning of their education, students
temporary society into the activity of artmaking and 2)
are taught to be powerless and disenfranchised and
discussions about the changing relationship of the art-
are not given the tools to go beyond the veneer of ap-
ist to the culture.
pearances to gain more depth of insight.
How to form a picture of culture through a study of
Most of my students do not have the ability to reThe Art of
Education
— 66
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search a subject and form a picture of the emerging
reality. When asked to investigate, they exhibit extreme
ignorance about how to proceed, and their explorations are pallid and lack passion. I have become increasingly concerned that this lack of passion and this
inability to develop a personal perspective are symptoms
of a nonworking educational system. A course that inte-
disenfranchisement through disinformation. When she
reexamined advertisements of the happy family of workers and customers, she began to understand the gap
between the veneer of the public image and the impenetrable monolith of the corporation itself. She had not
set out to find this. She had simply wanted to take pictures at a restaurant.
grates personal observation and library research with socioeconomic and political analysis would provide art
students with an opportunity to expand the ways in which
they “know” about the world.
Personal observation, experience, and subsequent
practice in forming an artwork based on that experience
constitute the crucial learning. Itis only through students’
willingness to encounter the world for themselves and
pay attention to their experience in the process that they
can really learn how to research for themselves. In the
middle of this learning process students often feel overwhelmed and confused, but this is a crucial part of the
In another instance I asked my students to make portraits of administration, faculty, students, and maintenance staff at the school where | teach. Each person
photographed was asked to write about her/his hopes,
dreams, and greatest fears. We assembled the final text
and images into a book, which was then xeroxed and
distributed to participants. This project gave students an
opportunity to interface with the various strata of persons at the school and find out something more about
them. The students learned about working together on a
project and discovered that the finished book made visiblea broader reality than any individual's work generated.
learning, part of the adventure of not knowing and trying
to understand. Ultimately, new recognitions emerge as
Explorations like those discussed above must be accompanied by classes that expand the student's poetic,
well as an appropriate final form that can adequately
intuitive self, the ultimate goal being to develop an inte-
communicate the emerging insights. In my experience,
grated person with a frame of reference from which to
unless students practice this process in school, they don't
identify the things she/he values. It is through the devel-
learn how to do it later on, and the symbols and images
opment of the spirit of each person that truly synthetic
they select remain conventional.
art education can be achieved. A love of form and of
Several years ago | taught a class in which students
were asked to choose a subject, study it for a semester,
photograph it, and finally make an artwork reflecting their
beauty and a knowledge of harmony, balance, and the
interrelatedness of the beings and elements of this world
are crucial to the full growth of the individual artist.
understanding and attitudes. Initially the students were
frustrated because they did not have any idea how to do
library research, how to investigate a subject in depth.
One student selected a fast food chain to study and
photograph. On her first day of photographing she found
she was not allowed ïhside the fast food restaurant with
sonal issues, and at times making work that has a social
Angeles. In the process she learned that no one knew
who was responsible for the rule against photographing.
ely
igh
CU-
She then asked about the corporate structure and
again could get no clear response. She started talking
with workers at the individual facilities and discovered
that they did not know anything more than their own job.
They had no idea where the cows were bred, grazed, or
slaughtered, where the buns came from, or anything
about the corporate structure. They certainly didn't know
nts
that land in Central America is deforested so that cattle
nd
can be grazed for fast food chains in Europe and the
ap-
ponsive to cultural concerns, working at times on per-
use.
person to ask, she was told to call Chicago, which she
on-
life. It is crucial that art education include a discussion
of the integration of the two, which includes staying res-
she could get permission to do her project. After calling
did, only to discover that they in turn told her to call Los
tin
classroom. Today art activity is seen as isolated from daily
her camera. I told her to call the corporate office to see if
over twenty people, none of whom could identify the right
ing
The relationship of the artist to the culture and to the
larger fabric of her/his own life is rarely discussed in the
U.S. Nor did they think about the wage structure that
results in economic benefits for management and investors only. She began to understand the extent of their
In this regard | find that books such as Cultures in
Contention, edited by Douglas Kahn and Diane Neumaier,
The Lagoon Cycle by Helen and Newton Harrison, The
New Photography by Frank Webster, and Ways of Seeing
by John Berger are useful in generating a dialogue about
the relationship of the artist to the culture.
We can no longer afford to offer an education experience that leads to a passive, impotent relationship with
culture and to alienation from our own voices. Students
need to learn the tools for making significant, challenging statements and to function as individuals in a complex world. My hope is to prepare students to negotiate,
question, and comment upon this world. E
Sheila Pinkel is an artist and chairperson of the photography
program at Pomona College. She is an international editor of
the art/seience publication Leonardo and is on the national
board of the Society for Photographic Education.
—— £9
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s RRRA
Sara Pasti The Library, 1990, litho crayon on lexan.
68
On Learning and Criticism
KAREN J. BURSTEIN
The Art of
Education
EE
N
t
v
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argaret has her
argaret Lucas Cav-
Ladies: Beauty,
endish tosses in
her bed. Outside
Love, Wit, Vertue,
Happy, and so many oth-
the birds sing, and their
high-pitched sounds
ers. They drink wine in
carry through the still morning air, over the window
Margaret’s dreams, and then they win wars, woo
sill, and to the ears of Margaret. Margaret puts the
men and women both, do heroic deeds, and orate
bird sounds in her dreams, though she never
with tremendous wisdom. Margaret stays with her
remembers them upon awakening.
Ladies in her chambers. The wine is spilled on the
And now Margaret wakes. Her eyes pop open and
she stares, first at the ceiling, blue in the early light
bed and the orations are on parchment.
Margaret’s chambers are in England. Her Ladies
of dawn, then outside the window, where the
are there on the wine-soaked bed. They are also in
birds sing.
France, where Margaret once served the Queen Hen-
She seems to remember something she must do.
rietta Maria when the court was in exile there. Mar-
Vague, in a further corner of her mind it is there, like
garet was a Lady to the Queen, a Lady-in-waiting,
the dreams she never remembers. Yawning sofily and
although thought dull and stupid by the court be-
rubbing her eyes, Margaret tries to find the thought.
cause she never raised her eyes or conversed. As a
She sits for a moment on the edge of her bed. The
child Margaret had been so protected by her family
floor is cold, and on first contact with it she mutters,
that she was shy with strangers and did not know
“The Comical Duchess,” quietly to herself, then
aloud, as she reaches for the bell on her bedside table.
In a moment she is up, standing on the chill floor.
how to behave at court. She wore dresses of her own
design, ignoring fashion, and was thought to be eccentric as well as dull.
She wonders if she should check the fire in her hus-
Two women in a still chamber at dawn, features
band’s chamber, for the air is damp, and as William
softened by sleep and the blue-yellow air, hair half-
ages, the changes in weather affect his health more
brushed and wildly loose about their shoulders, writ-
and more. But she knows that he has been awake
ing. Sarah drawing the quill furiously across the pages
until the early hours of the morning himself, writ-
in long and delicate motions, as Margaret bears verse
ing, and that the fire is surely fine.
at alarming speed. It is the year 1668.
Margaret is brushing her long, dark hair as Sarah,
her maid, enters. The ring of Margaret's bell had in-
ilary has been in the library today, the
truded into her dream. All that Sarah remembers
same library from which Virginia
about her dream is the pasture, and that she was on
Woolf was barred not so many years
horseback, and a bell called her, loud and reverber-
ago. Hilary finds an essay by Virginia
Woolf in a collection called The
ating across the fields. She rode fast to its source,
pulled as if to a magnet.
“Aah, good Sarah,” Margaret greets her. “It was a
strange thing. I woke with the Comical Duchess in
Common Reader, and Hilary likes it especially. It is
called “The Duchess of Newcastle,” and Hilary reads
it twice.
my head and might bring her to life. And also a commitment I must have, for I seem to recall one. Do
you know what that might be?”
“Yes, Lady. Tea with Mister Critik this afternoon.”
“Why, of course. Tea with dear Mister Critik. Oh
my, must I be ridiculed this day? By the by, we shall
see. But let us begin, for Fame’s High Tower is
waiting!”
And as Margaret dictates, Sarah writes swiftly, pausing occasionally to allow her Lady time to mull over
the positioning of words and phrases.
“Sarah! I shall name this A Comedy of the Apocry-
...there was a wild streak in Margaret, a love of finery and extravagance and fame, which was for ever upsetting the orderly arrangements of nature |p. 103].
Margaret could apply herself uninterruptedly to her writing. She
could design fashions for herself and for her servants. She would
scribble more and more furiously with fingers that became less
and less able to form legible letters [p. 106].
One cannot help following the lure of her erratic and lovable
personality as it meanders and twinkles through page after page.
There is something noble and Quixotic and high-spirited, as well
as crack-brained and bird-witted, about her. Her simplicity is so
open; her intelligence so active; her sympathy with fairies so true
and tender. She has the freakishness of an elf, the irresponsibility
of some non-human creature, its heartlessness, and its charm [pp.
111-112).
phal Ladies!”
Margaret brings to life, not only the Comical Duchess, but also the Unfortunate Duchess, the Lady True
Honour, and the Duke of Inconstancy.
Here Hilary pauses. The description of Margaret Cavendish has disintegrated from “noble” to “some nonhuman creature.”
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“I must find out more.” Hilary spends the afternoon and evening in the library and discovers pieces
of Margaret Lucas Cavendish hidden among the
stacks and rows of pages: two volumes of her dramatic verses, Playes (1662) and Plays Never Before
a second-story window. Hilary thinks she can make
out two women, hair loose and wild about their
shoulders. But the heat of the fire wafts over the
image and it is gone.
The sun will soon be fully risen. Hilary has walked
Printed (1668). The hand-cut parchment is yellow and
all night, journeying from the library where Marga-
bound in worn leather. The portraits of Margaret have
ret Lucas Cavendish hid among the pages to this
been torn away from the front of each volume.
The prologues, epilogues, and dedications are
soaked with justifications and apologies. For
stone house where, centuries before, she used
to live.
And now the fire from inside that second-story
room consumes the blue-yellow air outside its win-
example:
All the materials in my head did grow. All is my own, and nothing
do I owe: Be all that I desire as when I die, My memory in my
own works may lye [“A General Prologue to all my Playes,” Playes].
I pass my time rather with scribbling than writing, with words
than wit, not that I speak much, because I am addicted to contemplation [A True Relation of the Birth, Breeding, and Life of Margaret
Cavendish, p. 297).
dow and travels down the drying leaves of the oaks.
Encircling Hilary, the flames fuel themselves with
pages of Lady Cavendish that have yet to be written.
Hilary joins the flame in a consummation surpassing the boundaries of'time, because, she realizes, they
do not exist.
[Playes]...tire me with their empty words, dull speeches, long parts,
ister Critik is ten
tedious Acts, ill Actors; and the truth is, there is not enough variety
in an old play to please me...this Play was writ by a Lady, who on
feet tall, and his
my Conscience hath neither Language, nor Learning, but what is
native and natural [“An Introduction,” Playes].
eyes sweep Fame’s
High Tower. His eyes are
Again Hilary pauses. “What is language and learning
only to be hushed by those around her.
Hilary reads some of Margaret’s plays—The Convent of Pleasure and Nature’s Three Daughters and one
called Pieces of a Play, which is just as long as any of
the others. She also reads the criticisms of them:
the broom that cleanses
the Tower ofits dust, or what they see to be dust,
even when the dust is sparkled confetti. Mister
Critik likes neither sparkles nor confetti amid the
grayness of his decor. One shade of color, whether it
be gray or black or burgundy. For him, a brightly lit
party subverts the true nature of life. “Reason!
Her works frequently do not meet even the loosest standards of
fictional probability and sometimes are incoherent... her printed
works are marred by errors of grammar and syntax, erratic punctuation and eccentric spelling [McGuire, p. 203].
“Fictional probability,” Hilary repeats the phrase several times to herself. “What a contradiction,” she
says aloud and is again hushed by those around her.
Reason! Reason!” he shouts from his balcony. He
must watch the way he leans, for the railing is loose.
“They have told me to lay out the table with prunes
and water,” he claims, “and thus I have.” And tea,
for it is tea-time and a guest is expected.
Only half-expecting the Lady Cavendish to make
an appearance (for she is, by choice, a recluse), Mis-
She reads on:
ter Critik prepares a dose of prune tea, which he
The Duchess was entirely devoid of any dramatic instinct. In all
her plays there is hardly a single character with any semblance of
life: her characters are mere abstractions, qualities, and humours,
uttering the fantastic speeches and quaint conceits which she loved
to write [Firth, p. xxvii].
= 70
The stream of patronizing words continues, but Hilary’s interest is sparked.
does not quite finish gulping down before the front
door gives notice. The man feels slightly askew and
hurriedly stows his prune tea in a cupboard, next to
and slightly behind a volume of criticism. Just as the
Duchess of Newcastle, the Lady Margaret Lucas Cavendish, breezes in, with all the grace ofa fairy misplaced from the stage, he closes the glass door and
turns. “My, she is beautiful,” Mister Critik thinks, not
ilary walks among the oak trees and
stares at the enormous stone house
for the first time.
Bashfully, yet with a certain aura of confidence, the
nearby. The curve of the balcony is
Lady steps to the right, allowing someone, apparently
strong and perfect. She sees herself in
a companion, to pass. Mister Critik catches the prune
an earlier time as a Great Lady,
tea just as it travels back up his esophagus.
pensively or blissfully gazing at the landscape from
Margaret’s friend is surely a woman, though Mis-
one of those balconies. She moves closer to the
ter Critik is daunted and appalled by her costume.
house. The dim light ofa fire glows across the sill of
She wears trousers, like a man, and boots that fasten
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just above the ankles. She wears an odd-looking shirt
of a loosely knitted assortment of colors and tex-
But Mister Critik will not admit this, even to himself. And so he smiles.
tures, which stops just short of her hips. The woman’s hair is cropped about the ears, and the whole
usk falls -due to Mister Critik dulling the
effect is somewhat bewildering. “Another character
flame with his eyes, sweeping the
from a drama of questionable ingenuity,” thinks Mis-
sparkles off Fame’s High Tower and
| ter Critik, who has been told that he is good at think-
absorbing them into the black hole of
| ing. “Surely the Lady Cavendish dreamt her up.”
his decor. Someday the vacuum might
“Lady Cavendish, my dear Duchess, I am unspeakably pleased to receive you as my guest. And, of
course, this pleasure extends to your companion.”
“I return the pleasure, Mister Critik, and would
like to introduce you to my new friend, Hilary. Hilary is unfamiliar with this part of our world, and so,
to educate her, I have invited her to join us. I trust
spit them back out again, or perhaps somebody will
enter and find them. The latter seems more likely.
Hilary must return to the library; she has work to
do. Margaret must go to rest in her Tower. She will
find a place to hide amidst the pages. Margaret hands
Hilary a volume of'writing she dared not give to Mister Critik. The two embrace before they part.
that poses no problem.”
“By all means, no,” says Mister Critik, and motions for the two women to sit on the sofa by the
fire. Mister Critik follows: he always follows his guests.
Mister Critik cannot sleep and gulps prune tea, inebriating himself. In this state he attempts to feed
the liquid to the manuscript of plays given him by
the Duchess. But the manuscript won’t drink and
instead gets stained a bloody burgundy and drips
ady Cavendish wears a gown
of rose-colored taffetta
trimmed with black lace, lowcut across the bosom and
flowing at the wrists. Her hair
is piled extraordinarily over her brow, tendrils
hanging along each temple in perfect curls. When
she turns to Mister Critik and hands him the latest
volume of her dramas and one of her poems, he
smiles, accepting them both with the utmost honor,
onto the gray carpet. Panicked, he thinks ofa way to
protect the carpet and sofa, for his things are expensive. Like a suckling child, he brings the manuscript
to his mouth, but more quickly than he is able to
suck the red liquid, the flame leaps from the fireplace, drying everything. He continues sucking, inhaling the dried flakes of prune tea, then the carpet,
the sofa, the manuscript, and eventually even the fire
itself.
Thus dies Mister Critik, consumed by the flame
Or SO it seems.
he had always ignored.
Much later he says (aside), “Your fairy poems are
in the league of Herrick and Mennis, perhaps even
Shakespeare. But your dramatic verses are horren-
argaret sleeps soundly and
dous—no sense of the three unities or of decorum.
Mister Critik dies painfully and
And one S-shaped verse, even if it exists, which I
Hilary awakes. Hilary’s eyes pop
open. In front of her are rows
highly doubt, would compose an entire scene.”
and stacks of books, dull brown
And the Lady Cavendish, thrice noble and illustrious Duchess of Newcastle, responds (not so aside),
in the fluorescent light. Imprinted on the pages of
“I did much pleasure and delight these Playes to
Margaret Lucas Cavendish’s writing seems to be an
make; For all the times my Playes a making were, My
image of her own face. She feels the burn of for-
brain the stage, my thoughts were acting there.”
gotten words branded into her flesh.
71 —
The man has no response to give, and so he smiles
It is late. The security guards pass through the
and offers more tea. He himself goes without, await-
building, reminding people that soon the doors will
ing the moment of the women’s departure when he
close. Vowing never to get trapped inside—or
will have the opportunity to finish the prune tea
outside—a building. Hilary packs up her things. But
stowed behind his volume of criticism in the glass
first she writes a list and tucks this list into a volume
cupboard. For he knows that if he and Margaret were
of writings she did not have upon entering the library:
alone on a desert island, and Margaret made coco-
Description of a New World by Margaret Lucas Caven-
nut faces with three eyes and no nose and dried milk
dish, Duchess of Newcastle. Though it was published
for a mouth, she would be living by her imagination,
in 1668, the pages are white and unwrinkled. List and
and the art rules of coconut face-making would be
book among her belongings, Hilary is now ready to
as the snow is to the tropiċs.
leave.
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BIBLIOGRAPHY
Cavendish, Margaret Lucas, Duchess of Newcastle (1623-1673).
CCXI Sociable Letters, London, 1664.
——. Grounds of Natural Philosophy, London 1668.
. The Life of William Cavendish, Duke, Marquis, and Earl
of Newcastle, Earl of Ogle, Viscount Mansfield, and Baron of
Bolsover, of Ogle, Bothal and Hepple, &c., London, 1675.
. Nature’s Pictures Drawn by Fancie’s Pencil to the Life,
London, 1656, 1671. (The first edition of which contains A True
Relation of the Birth, Breeding, and Life of Margaret Cavendish,
written by Herself.)
. Observations upon Experimental Philosophy to which is
added the Description of a New World, London, 1666, 1668.
. Orations of Divers Sorts, London, 1662, 1668.
——. Philosophical and Physical Opinions, London, 1655, 1663.
. Philosophical Fancies, London, n.d.
——. Philosophical Letters, or Modest Reflections upon some
Opinions in Natural Philosophy maintained by several learned
authors of the age, London, 1664.
. Playes, London, 1662 (contains twenty-one plays).
. Plays Never Before Printed, London, 1668 (contains five
Lewisburg, Pa.: Bucknell University Press, 1980.
Firth, C.H., ed. Memories of the Duke of Newcastle. London: Routledge; New York: E.P. Dutton & Co., n.d.
Gagen, Jean. “Honor and Fame in the Works of the Duchess of
Newcastle.” Studies in Philology, July 1959: 519—538.
Gorgeau, Angeline. The Whole Duty of a Woman. New York:
Doubleday, 1985.
Grant, Douglas. Margaret the First. London: Rupert Hart-Davis, 1957.
Hampsten, Elizabeth. “Petticoat Authors: 1660-1720.” Women’s
Studies 7 (1980): 21-28.
McGuire, Mary Ann. “Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle,
on the Nature and Status of Women.” International Journal of
Women’s Studies, 1:2: 193-206.
Morgan, Fidelis. The Female Wits: Women Playwrights of the Restoration, London: Virago, 1981.
Paloma, Dolores. “Margaret Cavendish, Defining the Female Self.”
Women’s Studies 6 (1979): 411-422.
Perry, Henry Ten Eyck. The First Duchess of Newcastle and Her Husband as Figures in Literary History. (Harvard Studies in English,
vol. 4). Boston, London: Ginn & Co., 1918.
Woolf, Virginia. “The Duchess of Newcastle.” The Common Reader.
New York: Harcourt, Brace & Co., 1925. x
plays).
. Poems and Fancies, London, 1664, 1668.
Karen J. Burstein wrote this essay while a student at Hamp-
. The World’s Olio, London, 1655, 1671.
shire College in Amherst, Mass. It is a response to the deletion
Cotton, Nancy. Women Playwrights in England, c. 1363—1750.
of women writers from the canon.
INA)
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Critics
AMY EDGINGTON
2
1
Critics say my collages are not fine art,
As I see it, what I'm here to do
just bits and pieces of other people’s work.
is to tell the truth
But I say that artists always borrow,
in any voice it wants to use—-
and if they borrow well,
a song, a howl, or a whisper.
when we view their work
The hardest thing about art
we will always feel
is just to do it without question.
a thrill of recognition,
To be an artist means to dare
as we see something familiar
to paint and write lots of bad stuff
that we have never seen before.
that is only fit for the compost heap
Critics say my poems are not well crafted,
but I say that it was never my intention
(but nothing beats compost for starting seeds).
Being udged an artist in this world
to be artful or crafty,
means only showing the people
not if that has anything to do
who have power and money
with the straight-laced teachers I had in school,
exactly what they want to see.
who refused to look at emotions,
And how original is that?
unless I dressed them like fancy dolls
It’s the oldest trick in the book,
if not the oldest profession.
Nothing naked, p/eave, and certainly no genitals!
I use criticism when it’s useful.
So please don’t tell me to take art lessons
or creative writing courses.
One poet friend said to me:
I don’t have the time or money,
This poem is too short
and I have no room to internalize
to say all you want it to say.
academic opinions: my head is too full
She was right, and I went on
of my own ideas that demand to be seen and heard
to write a much better, longer poem.
like anybody else’s children.
This was good advice: not telling me
Anyway, I never learned art in school.
what to write about or how to do it,
I learned that only silence
or implying that I'd never get it right
will satisfy every critic.
because I lacked some inherent talent,
But I failed to find silence
or that really s/e could say it
bearable.
better than I ever could.
At its best, though, criticism
is always a very sharp tool:
May 1987
remember never to offer or grasp
the blade instead of the handle.
73 —
At its worst, criticism becomes
a self-serving authority figure,
a nosy landlord living inside our heads,
getting rich on our fear and self-doubt.
He peeks in our windows when we are naked;
he knocks on our door at midnight,
demanding we pay the back rent;
then he says we’re no good anyway
and threatens to kick us out in the cold.
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Beatın
EMMA AMOS
BEATING THE ODDSFORBA,BFA,
ANDMFAART MAJORS.
Fewer than five out of 100 art school graduates are making art ten
years later. That's a lousy statistic. Despite the many artists we know,
see, and read about, there are enormous numbers more who educated
themselves to be artists but gave up somewhere along the way.
MOVE to a city with galleries, museums, and art hools.
LIVE with or marry an artist. Two can cover more ground
than one.
LEARN to eat and live VERY cheaply.
KEEP up with your classmates. Exchange names and
GET financial aid from doting parents, aunts, family friends.
addresses, including parents’ addresses in case of moves:
FIND work in a job that allows some flexibility in hours, such
KEEP a file of artists’ colonies, summer programs, and
as sales, framing, gallery sitting, conservation, or design.
people who can and will write good references for you.
y y
MAKE time to make art. Get up early on Saturdays and
Sundays and work from 9:00 to 3:00 before doing shop-
Dont
ping, laundry, etc. NO EXCUSES!
MAKE a weekly appointment to go to galleries,
museums, experimental dance, theatre.
CREATE a group of artist friends to exchange studio
DON’T walk your slides around to galleries. Youll get
TAKE slides of your work every three months. Take at least
„ adozen shots of each work so you don't have to make
copies right away. Keep your résumé up to date. Mail your
too discouraged. Send them.
DON’T stay in the same dead-end job for more than a
year. Nowthat.you’ve established an artmaking rhythm,
\Show young, unknown artists. Send a SASE for their return.
APPLY for scholarships to the good summer art schools.
you neéd to 'addrėss- lifetimegoals. Prepare to start training
fof a specific jöBExamples:.Graduate school for teaching,
conservatiónmuseŭin Work. Grad school or special classes
GET accepted to three group shows your first year out.
for, SPNA textile ‘design, industrial design, computer
art, display.”
CURATE a show—including your own work, of course
DON’T wait until the last term of school to plan for
—and find an organization to host the show for free. Invite
your art career.
your friends, the press, and galleries.
DON’T call your old professors, the art office, or the
JOIN the College Art Association. Great job listings.
LOOK in art magazines and newspapers for pertinent
articles, opportunities, and grant listings.
APPLY for your home-state's artists grants as soon as
you're eligible.
MATCH your work to the galleries and curators 'who
show work that seems responsive to your own. Get on their
mailing lists and GO TO ALL THEIR OPENINGS.
dean to help you find a job at graduation.
DONT 1) livein a no-art town or 2) with an unsupportive
roommate, and (3) try not to live at home if at all possible.
DON’T overprice your work.
DON’T frame your work unless youw’re showing it at a
gallery with a chance for sales. Use reusable frames. Keep
your sizes uniform.
DON’T forget to make u iar and T pakab.
DON’T GIVE UR.
Nao)
Education
— 74
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, BUT THE SOMI
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desperate fear, grotesyue PY wrneyuty, and con tCtUy
RICHARD
e ) he chairman’s reputation was well established.
>»
Sre imagined her interview
with the chairman and considered
how she might best present herself.
IOO NBAVEDON
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e M
he knew the problems an interview entailed and Ow to edit her portfolio to make her work he imagined herself to be a model instructor...
wondered how she would maneuver. comprehensible to him?
COMPOSITION, CONTENT,
FEMINISM, FORMALISM,
MARXISM, MODERNISM ..….
~
J. 7
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A Ow to come across without coming on?
Sin realized that the chairman did not share
her values. How could she communicate her
qualifications without her politics?
«An other aspects of her life by Leigh Kane
she found a variety of solutions to < : c ,
this problem. and Diane Lontius
Leigh Kane is an artist/activist/educator who teaches media studies at Carleton College near Minneapolis.
—— 7G
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> >»
H. know that the department was under Sre was intelligent, articulate, and determined.
pressure to hire a woman. He thought about the
prospect with some anticipation. It had been weeks
since his last affair.
>
: and hoped she could convince him
S was hungry for the job
of her skills.
Æ he job required extensive teaching experience,
an impressive exhibition record, willingness to work
with colleagues, and numerous departmental duties.
... capable of the varied Da she measure up to the
responsibilities of a expectations?
full-time position.
CL
HA alliances with others the activism, the women’s caucus,
offered her support and inspired the poster collective, the reading
L Art of group, the writing, the family,
i aeher: work.
: the
child, the lover... ?
Education
Diane Pontius is a photographer, video artist, and teacher currently living in Philadelphia.
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several years ago I decided to go to New
and apply the laws. Pull in, push in, lifi
York to study dance professionally. After
up—the desired image is definitely
teaching at a university, I was looking for-
male, androgynous at best, but never fe-
ward to being in an environment that
male with curves and roundness, which
values learning with the body and study-
are considered “appropriate only for the
ing in a field where women have been
Middle Eastern belly dancer,” our teach-
visible and important, historically. At the
er tells us. Such a contrast to the way Rina
same time, I was terrified. To my mind,
Singha spoke of her training in Indian
I did not fit the typical image of'a dance
dance in the video “Women in Asian
student, and at the age of thirty I had
Dance.” “We worked on two pieces,
never studied dance full time. After con-
four hours a day for six months, repeatsidering several studios, I finally chose
ing them over and over again, sometimes
the Nikolais/Louis Dance Lab because of
with slight variations and recitation of the
their belief that given time, work, and
rhythmic patterns. In this way the piece
guidance, anybody can learn to dance. I
and its timing became a part of our
was also impressed by the continuity of
body.” She then demonstrated one of
the school’s teaching staff, which spans
three generations of dancers, including
Nos of our education. You have already
Hanya Holm who is in her nineties and
learned enough. Now you must learn to
one ofthe pioneers of modern dance in
give up, to make room. It takes courage,
America. The following are journal ex-
but there is no other way.”
cerpts about my experience in the studio and my research on the history of
There is much to learn from the body,
women in dance.
and not just dance either. The physicality of our selves is basic to everything
I had my first class with Hanya and was
totally taken by her. “Mostly fear and familiarity,” she said, “that’s what keeps us
from doing. First we must undo all the
— 78
her practice pieces; it could not have
been more than five minutes in all. How
I long to train in this way, slowly repeating what we need to know from the inside. Our training is done much too
quickly, and we are not allowed the time
to really sense the place of movement
in the body.
we do, yet it is one of'the most neglected
aspects of our upbringing and education,
which often serve to trap the reflexes
and cauterize the instincts. Bringing
those back to life is, as I’m finding out,
This learning is difficult and painful,
physically and psychologically, as I touch
habits deeply embedded in my muscles.
Yet I've come to be grateful for the pain,
an excruciating process, physically and
psychically.
Briefly I felt my whole body thinking—a
moment of vibration or alertness, not
just in the head but in the legs, the torso,
the arms. A sense of radiating outward
from inner movement. A glimmer that
blood, muscle, and bone are knowledgeable and sentient: consciousness in the
curves of muscles, the rushing of blood,
the exchange of fluids and air. Cellular
knowledge ..….
In some ways the approach to the body
is very male: analyze, analyze, analyze,
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even to watch for it, because it means
my body,” I said. “Do not let your mind
changes are underway and sensation is
dominate your body,” she replied. “The
being developed.
mind is there to clarify what the body
will do. Trust your body.”
The deeper I go into women and dance
the more I recognize myself, get glimpses
More and more I am seeing/sensing how
of what has been lost but is still alive in
deeply we as women internalize the fact
my instincts and in the living layer of my
that our bodies are not our own, how
body. Yesterday I was reading about Ka-
deeply the colonization goes. What do
buki theater, where women are prohib-
we need to free ourselves from the in-
ited from formal participation despite
side? What are the conditions for the
the fact that they created the Kabuki
freedom of the body? It is as if we had
dance form. Predictably, this form was
to recompose our most basic posture to
taken away from them by men, and they
find the point or source ofall other pos-
were outlawed from their own creation.
sibilities.
Yet a germ of their sensibility remains in
the integrity of the form, the wholeness
Looking at one of the young women
ofthe dances, which do not fall into ab-
today and thinking, Yes, that’s me ten
straction. Here in the geste I had a mo-
years ago if only ... I have to be careful
ment of recognition, a tugging in my
not to fall into bitterness or pity. I am
body saying, Yes, we passed here, as I
where I am and there is nothing to do
remembered what has fallen into silence,
about that except work harder. Clean-
can no longer be said but is still en-
ing out channels, bones, tendons, liga-
trusted to the body.
ments, socket joints, hinge joints. Refin-
ishing the antique lovingly. x
Today speaking with Hanya I told her I
am confused about the relation between
Rachel Vigier lives and works in New York City.
She is currently at work on a collection of essays m
mind and body. “My mind doesn’t know
about women, dance, and the body entitled Ges-
what to do with itself when I listen to
tures of Genius.
79 —,
EĐ
á K A
ta
Ap
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JOAN HERBST SHAPIRO
his year I had the lucky experience of learn-
original compositions that refer to African and AfroAmerican cultures. Sometimes they combine diverse
elements, such as a contemporary rock song sungin
ing group Women of the Calabash.
the style of South African workers’ choirs. Their pre-
The shekere is a West African instrument that
sentation is a spectacular mix of percussive music,
comes from the Yoruba people of Nigeria. Used as a
vocals, movement, and dance.
powerful instrument to call spiritual forces, it is played
for religious ceremonies and occasions. The instru-
the audience to participate—“You'’re gonna clap your
ment is made from a hollowed-out gourd, or cala-
hands. You're going to sing and dance.” The liveli-
bash, which serves as a drum. Beads strung on a net
ness of the rhythms, with beautiful spacious melo-
encircling the gourd add a rattle sound:
dies spreading over all, is entrancing. Vocals complement percussive rhythms. Sometimes there is a dra-
DA dee DA dee DA dee, DA DA DA dee
matic rhythmic contrast between the first and sec-
DA dee DA dee DA dee, DA DA DA dee
ond parts of a song.
re
beat from the hollow interior of the calabash. The
that the musicians were members of'a class she taught
dee or che is a rattle sound created by the beads. The
called Egbe Omo Shekere (“Children of the Cala-
gourd is held semihorizontally between the player's
bash”). She said that the class met every Sunday in a
hands. As it is pushed by one hand and received by
West Village studio and that anyone could come. I
the other, the beads fly up and snap as they hit the
decided to go.
gourd. Che! The bass is sounded by either hand, hitting the calabash as it is thrust back and forth be-
cavernous Westbeth basement. I feel shy, yet I want
tween the player’s hands. Hearing the instrument
to connect to this music, so I join the circle of musi-
for the first time, I felt strongly drawn to its power
cians and stand up as part of the group. No one is
and energy.
more amazed than I. I am carried away. Clapping my
hands and stamping my feet I think that this music is
settings. Traditionally the instrument is used as
like ...yes, like pure affirmation. If ever I were seri-
backup in a group of drums. The original contribu— 80
ously sick, this music would heal me.
tion of Women ofthe Calabash is the use of'shekeres
played together as the featured instrument. In this
rapt. Introductions are informal, occurring after the
context one clearly hears both the rattle and bass
warm-ups that begin the class. We go around the
voices. At the time Women of the Calabash began
circle, calling out our first names. The attitude toward
playing, this was an untried idea. Its musical appeal
time and attendance is relaxed. Class is scheduled
can be measured by the fact that currently it has been
adopted by other musical groups.
from 11:30 A.M. to 1:00 P., but usually begins a little
late and runs on after 2:00. People come when they
nA
R
can and leave when they have to.
The music consists of complementary rhythmic
brates off the cement walls.
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N
vious learning experiences. When I ask Madeleine if
pressions as well as words, projecting enthusiasm or
the class is patterned on traditional African teaching
delight in the music, showing off skill, or miming
methods, she replies that she does not know. Essen-
sleepiness if the rhythm is flagging. She can be
tially she has developed her method of teaching in
clownish—imitating my overly serious expression
response to things she has found difficult in her own
until we break up laughing.
learning experiences. She says, “Most musicians have
endured a lot of put-down experiences, and they
teach that way.” In this class the flow of music is
never interrupted by criticism. No one is ever told
that they’re wrong. Someone just shows them something they can do while the music continues. There
is no testing, no putting people on the spot. Made-
her mother.
leine likes to create situations in which people can
The class is like a gift—the gift of a more life-
enjoy playing, whether it’s in the circle of the class
or at a low-key performance or through group participation in a parade.
Heresies 25
I8
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Classes are not sequential but rather an ongoing vious classroom experiences, in which students were
continuum in which beginners and experienced often pitted against one another. I found this class
players participate together. This permits people to both illuminating and healing—in contrast to “edugo at their own pace, to pick up as much as they can cational” experiences I’ve had elsewhere.
as fast or as slowly as they can. “When I first was learn- I believe that methods and systems of education
; _ ing,” Madeleine comments, “drummers would tell express the values of the people or cultures that creme, ‘Stand back and play the one.’ There’s so much ate them. The implicit value underlying most Ameri-
ego involved among musicians. It limits what they can education, it seems, is how to get ahead in the
are willing to show you.” She says that she is not material world in competition with everyone else
interested in students imitating her style but in giv- who is trying to get ahead. The spiritual basis of the
ing them a basic vocabulary of rhythms and patterns shekere class is unity, not competition. It is assumed
with which they can devise their own language. that when one joins the circle, he or she becomes
I strongly sense an intangible spiritual presence in part of the whole. Within that whole, each individ-
this class. While Yoruba tradition and spirituality ual is treated with deep respect, appreciation, and
aren't specifically discussed, they provide a founda- support. The class is founded on values of loving the
Kabuya P. Bowens The Final Call, 1989, gouache and m/m papers, triptych, each panel 12"x17". Photo: Glenn Saffo.
Presently working with the Studio in a School Association as an artist/instructor, Kabuya P. Bowen is also spending nine months as artist-in-residence at Longwood
(Bronx Council for the Arts). She is a native of Miami and has exhibited in both the New York and Miami areas.
tion for much of the music we play. music, having fun together, paying attention, develn The African model of music-making is commu- oping skills, and making a contribution. I would like
82 nal in its orientation. This differs from classical West- to see these values more prevalent in our society and
— ern tradition, which treats music as a highly special- learning situations.
s ized activity in which musicians and audience are Madeleine teaches because she really has somestrictly separated. As in African musical tradition, my
thing to give directly to people—she loves turning
shekere class is a social and participatory activity in
them on to the instrument. I go because I love the
which individual development is supported by the
music and want to connect to its power and energy.
group. IfI am doing well, I sense the appreciation of
It isn’t about getting ahead or competition or im-
the whole group. If I get lost, somêèone will smile proving one’s marketability or preparation for some-
from across the circle, catch my eye, and demon- thing. It’s about playing together. v
strate a rhythm I'can play. The first time this hap- si Joan Herbst Shapiro is an artist and environmental educator
: : : who lives in New York City. Her current work is concerned with
pened I was astonished. This experience of group healing our alienation from ourselves, one another, and the
support was strikingly different from most of my pre- natural/spiritual world.
The Art of
Education
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a sE [v4
AA
CAROL WOLFE KONEK
In 1987, during the three-week International Women’s Decade Forum and Con-
of several hundred people gathered
around them. Young men started asking
ference in Nairobi, several of us gathered
Dana questions about this ‘strange West-
at night to discuss all we had taken in
ern sexual practice. She told them she
throughout the day. We had listened to mi-
was a lesbian and talked about the emo-
grant women, refugee women, and women
in exile. We had listened to women out-
litical and cultural biases against the
preference. She was quite articulate. They
female circumcision. We talked late into
were fascinated.”
by revelations of atrocities that implicated
us all.
“And the police were there all this time?”
Billie asked.
sure nothing got out of control. And of
course they were also listening. At one
pened to Dana today. “Dame Nita Barrow
point they took several young men away.”
asked the women in the international les-
“Do you suppose the police detained
bian group to give up their booth. She said
forum, and no lesbian materials could be
handed out.”
“How can the conference censor anyone?” Billie asked.
“The women who were staffing the booth
didn't ask any questions. They just moved
their materials to the grassy square.”
Anna told us Dana had spoken for al- N
most five hours, that she was undaunted, D
that she was speaking from the heart of a
silence many women had occupied o
years. Dana became a liberator, a folk hero B
ping in to Dana's room to congratulate her.
My own thought was that she might now
be viewed as a threat.
“They were watching the crowd to make
One evening Anna came to the room
exclaiming, “You wor't believe what hap-
no lesbian issues would be debated at the
quired FBI files at the conference. |
tional basis for the preference and the po-
raged by sex tourism, bride-burning, and
the night, trying to resolve feelings evoked
City and later discovered that we had ac- 7
those men? Is is illegal to listen to such
discussions?” | asked, remembering my
friend Njinga’s story of his father's detention, the deplorable conditions in the jails,
and the impossibility of getting legal defense, whether guilty or innocent.
The next day I was attracted to a cluster
of animated people in the center of the Å
square, and | recognized the women from
the lesbian information booth. A young man N
politely inquired if he could ask me a ques- Viv.4
tion. | responded that he could. DO
“If you please, would you mind explain- | / SY
of life?” O
ing to me and ny friends this lesbian way S0%
I was charmed by the man's curious, Wy
courteous diction and realized that the de- WWZ%
Anna thumbed through Sisterhood /s
Global until she found the laws on homo-
fensiveness and hostility that might infuse W V
sexuality in the Kenyan chapter: “It is ille-
such a question posed by a Western man n
gal under the Penal Code (Sec. 162) to have
were absent in this man's demeanor. “I don't W
in the program. I wasn't surprised that the
carnal knowledge of any person against the
planners were worried about the response
order of nature and is punishable by four-
mind discussing this with you. What would A
you like to know?” By now there were fifteen N i
No lesbian workshops had been listed
j . | :
of the Kenyan government to this topic,
teen years imprisonment. The law does
considering the missionary influence on
not specifically mention lesbianism.” ..….
S : N E TNE SONSS a T SE S Be SA Eaa VERAZ T
v education. It had become increasingly apA| parent that every government had a vested
N interest in perpetuating its own form of female subordination and that the preservation of silence was essential to this
l purpose. “So what happened?” I asked.
“Anna, you must tell Dana to be careful,” I said, realizing as | spoke how cautious and conventional | sounded. But |
vividly recalled the Mexico City conference
in 1975 and ny first realization that many
governments see the women’s movement
d “Did the women object to their treatment?”
as a threat to nationalism. My companion
N “No. They sat passively on the ground
and | were certain we were being followed
group. |
or twenty young people, mostly men, but l N
also a few women, on the outskirts of the Y
“How is it that lesbians can make love?” ##(N
“They can make love as any two people || )
can make love.” v p
Several of the young men stifled their IVÆØS
laughter. “Oh, no, they can't,” said the L
leader.
I plunged ahead, determined to be gen- J
tle. “Making love is possible between any B
SSS
2 9 SN AN
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Alex Stavitsky Dominican Republic, June 1989, photograph.
~~
A
Alex Stavitsky Dominican Republic, June 1989, photograph.
/
ノレ Currently a photo asdistant, Alex Stavitsky wants to ude photography to cha llenge preconceived idead of femininity, politice, people, and their varioud cultured.
] She wad in Nicaragua for the 1990 electiond.
る WA
いく Sd, MN
0> 4OE( ANN
/
人
人
PAS
> VE
BN
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y/
トト
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SVE
p believe that penetration is the most imporPIN tant part of the sex act.” I paused , hoping
they understood. There were several nods.
Y “But penetration is not always the most important or pleasing part of lovemaking for a
behind me seemed to be moving closer.
woman must be reacting to something.
“In our country there is often disrespect
between men and women. Daughters often
learn to fear their fathers and then also find
“You would ignore the matter of sin?”
asked the second man, speaking somewhat more aggressively than before.
“I am saying that love between two
j woman. In our culture there are many
they cannot depend on the respect of other
f Women who believe men äre too interested
men. Men in our culture sometimes make
l in penetration. Lovemaking goes too fast for
disgusting remarks to women in public
pounding of my pulse and of my anger at
| A the woman when the man is thinking only
places. We have music and movies that
the indoctrination of these men who had
1 of reaching his goal.” I paused again. “Is it
the same in your culture?”
“But without that, there is nothing,”
), added another man.
“A man's point of view may be different,
but think of making love from a woman's
point of view. Women like to be embraced.
They like to be held and caressed and to
feel that they are precious to the one who
loves them.”
“Yes, we know.”
“They like to speak and to be understood.
Some women tell me they are conquered,
; like territory—taken, without regard for their
feelings or their response.”
i| A man who had been silent spoke softly.
N “Yes I have heard women say so.”
! “While we are talking like this, there is
equate sex and violence, and there are men
who rape, brutalize, and sometimes kill
women. No woman in our culture is safe
from this violence.”
“In our culture some of these things are
happening, too.”
“I understand from talking to women at
this conference, | continued, that until recently a man had the right to beat his wife,
and that laws against wife-beating are not
always enforced, even now.”
Agreement from my listeners. “It is the
women cannot be a sin, that only violence K
can be a sin,” | concluded, aware of the
seemed so sweet and polite until I reached || a
the bedrock of their belief. V
When I met Billie and Anna in the Peace V
Tent at the end of the day, I confessed | A
now understood how Dana was compelled IW
to answer the questions of the Kenyans and N
that I too had become their instructor.
Anna hoped I hadn't gotten myself in V
trouble and began telling me about Dana's
experience that day. As Dana read announcements in the bulletin area, a woman
spoke to her. Never taking her eyes from
same in my country. We are a long way from
the board, the woman said “Do not look at
arriving at understanding between men and
or appear to talk to me. I heard your talk in
women. We are looking for ways to stop the
the public square. I know young women
violence and create understanding. Perhaps
who need your message, and yet there is
someday men will listen to women and try
no information in my country. If you could
to understand what they think, how they
send books and articles to this address, you
H something else I would like to discuss with
feel, and what they want.”
could save lives.” She tacked a note to the
v you,” I added, searching for tact. “In my
country women are often abused by men.
life-styles?” came the question.
WAN
I V
si Sometimes fathers do not value their daughters. Men beat their wives, and also their
children.”
“And then there will be no more lesbian
“No, no. There will still be lesbian life-
bulletin board and continued speaking. |
am a teacher in a school for girls. From
time to time close relationships develop
styles. When women are no longer territory
between the girls, perhaps love relationships
to be conquered or property to be owned,
...and the girls have no way of learning that
they will be free to love whomever they
their experience is not unique. Several times
please. Women will then be free to choose
there have been suicides, double suicides
more than once. It is very tragic. If I could
ence, | fear this is a problem everywhere.
choose, they will no longer be offended by
You ask me what lesbians do. What two
this choice.”
women do, | am told, for I am not a lesbian,
is to love each other with tenderness and
W concern for the pleasure of each other"
Ý “And this trouble between men and
i women ...you think it makes women prefer
N making love with other women?"
“What about religious and moral laws
which must be obeyed?” asked my first
questioner. | realized | was confronting a
very polite wall.
tell them there are books to read, books by
women who choose love, perhaps some of A
these girls could be saved” e
Anna and | wondered if there was a way
to send the books, if the woman receiving
them would be endangered. We knew there p
“Most religions teach the principles of
love and respect, and yet many marriages
was
censorship
andschool
felt that
a package
v
mailed
from one
to another
might
be opened by the authorities.
BI “No. Not necessarily. Women who love
are based on contempt and abuse. Moral-
d women are not rejecting men. They are lov-
ity would require that people are never re-
ing women because they find women beau-
quired to submit to intimacy with someone
H tiful and loving and interesting.”
who does not love and respect them.” Only
hollow in response. She said she was just J
now did I become uneasy that the guard
waiting to go home. Something was very,
B “But you think women are afraid of men?”
The next day I met Dana in the hall; |
asked for the latest news, but her voice was J
AZIZA
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very wrong. What had happened to this in-
with the freedom | felt in the square. With
does heroism reside? Heroic actions tran-
spiring, patient woman?
all those people around me, listening, | felt
scend despair, but the person who herself
“Saturday night, a block from here, I was
that the world was becoming a place where
is heroic doesn't always experience it that
mugged. A man grabbed me from behind,
everything could be spoken aloud. | felt so
way. Dana went home feeling defeated, but
twisted my arm behind me, and asked for
accepted for who I was. So loved by all the
her courage had an enduring effect on other
my money. | took it out of my pocket and
people who gathered around me. Then the
gave it to him. When he saw it was only
mugging. It was as though it was deliber-
twenty shillings, he was furious. He jerked
ate. As though I were being—”
my arm behind me, and as | looked over
“— punished for speaking?”
my shoulder, I saw a knife. Then he punched
“Yes, Silenced.”
me in the stomach.”
“Why didn't you tell us?”
“All the usual reasons. I had so many
feelings. I felt stupid. Responsible. You know
the list. | couldn't fight. It was as though |
I tried to convince Dana that it was most
likely random violence, not retaliation.
“But I feel diminished. It ruined my
courage.”
people, and I wanted to make something
of her experience that she may be unable
to.
There is also a beautiful political parable
in what occurred. We need to be aware of
the abuse we experience at the hands of
our sisters, the oppression we ourselves create for women. The action of the conference's conveners—excising all lesbian
“Your courage touched all those who
information from the official forum— served
| were a little girl again. As though | were a
heard you. Think how you changed lives
only to create a more powerful platform for
helpless three-year-old rather than who |
by speaking to them in their silence.”
the ideas and more motivation for lesbian
really am. /’m a marathon runner. I'm
Dana managed to say she would try to
spokespersons to rise to the challenge. In
an athlete. And ! let him hit me. | stood
hold on to that thought and that she hoped
trying to silence them, Dame Barrow suc-
there obediently and let him have my
the passage of years would make it easier
money.”
to focus on that aspect of the conference.
“You felt you should have fought back,
Has it? Victims of violence—whether eco-
and that since you didn't, you were
nomic, physical, or academic violence—
responsible?”
recover at different rates, though it has been
ceeded in giving them a greater voice. ¥
Carol Wolfe Konek is an associate dean and faculty member in the Center for Women’s Studies
at Wichita State University. She writes about the
international women’s movement, the women’s
/
peace movement, and women recovering from
"Maybe. And maybe this comes together
chemical dependencies
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Ai A,
l am incarcerated in a women's prison in
$
mon trend in all of the prison systems in
inhabit internal Diso will continue to
the United States, except for a very few
suffer unnecessarily. For a society that
which have not been seriously affected by
the need for AIDS education in the prison
system in order to bring an end to the cruel
The court systems generally uphold the
treatment of people with AIDS is a poor
D.O.C’s measures because of the antici-
showing of sincerity.
and barbaric treatment of those individuals
pated political outcry of a society that is
living in prisons who suffer from this deadly
equally uneducated about the facts of
disease.
the virus.
Instead of educating inmates and admin-
professes to be humane and interested in
the welfare of its citizens, the government's
New Jersey. I wish to bring to your attention
The author of this letter must remain anonymous
because the system referred to above has taken
drastic measures to stop all outside communication dealing with the subject of AIDS. This in-
At this writing there is just one female
istrators and staff about the facts of AIDS,
inmate confined to a Special Medical Unit
prisons allow rumors to be the only source
in the only female institution in the State of
of information. This hinders the treatment
New Jersey (this inmate is referred to as
of the inmates who suffer from AIDS and
Jane Doe in one specific case). However,
consequently increases the fear of prison-
in 1988 alone there were two deaths that
ers and staff. For example, upon entering
occurred as a result of the lack of proper
this women's institution, an inmate receives
medical treatment. These women were se-
one pamphlet that is highly outdated and
riously ill but were denied the “special medi-
contains obsolete information. At some time
cal treatment” that is reserved for “Jane
during an inmate's stay-at the institution a
Doe”—a woman who has been in complete
film is shown. This film does not include
remission from a bout with PCP in June
any medical information. It is a film made
1987. Both women who died were con-
by dying inmates in New York State's prison
firmed'to have been carrying the AIDS virus.
cludes the 24-hour lockdown for over a month of
the author herself for actively advocating exposure
of the system's treatment of AIDS inmates. The
author dedicates this letter to J.R., for her unbe-
lievable strength, courage, and determination,
which is her motivation to continue this fight.
Dear Folks
I'm buying my mother a subscription to
Heresies because she is somewhat clueless about the topics that your magazine
discusses. Please send her a little “gift
card” if you have them ...…. l'Il put it under
system, and in it the inmates make a final
It is a proven medical fact that isolation
plea to others not to follow in their footsteps.
from all social contact, whether verbal,
Unfortunately, by the time an individual is
physical or visual, is detrimental to the im-
incarcerated it is too late to reconsider and
mune system of a human being. Medical
avoid behaviors that have already taken
fact also supports the notion that AIDS is
place.
not easily transmittable, and is a behavior-
Despite proven medical facts, the State
ally responsible virus. Despite these facts,
of New Jersey's Department of Corrections
our society continues to support the theory
chooses to institute primitive methods of
that it is safer to confine those who suffer
treatment of AIDS inmates. While a diag-
from AIDS in a “leper colony” setting. There
the tree or something. Maybe she'll stop
ironing my dad's shirts.
I read and use Heresies extensively. |
have been researching the gender gap that
exists in the artworld and Heresies has lent
me some unique insights. Keep it up, etc.
As far as I know, I'm the only male that
reads your magazine (at my school at least).
But I also read military reports and NCO
87 —
Magazine to keep informed on all sides.
Cheers,
nosis of “full-blown AIDS” is in no way a
is a reason that people are frightened, and
diagnosis of increased infectiousness, the
that is because of our government's atti-
C.C.—Hamilton, New York
< -3
D.O.C. isolates prisoners suffering from full-
tude in perpetuating crisis-level educational
blown AIDS from the remaining population.
programming, not only within the correc-
In addition, prisoners are denied access to
tional system but in society in general. With-
legal rights as afforded to them through the
out support from the public and without
issue offered some intriguing questions
8th and 14th Amendments to the United
education, thousands of inmates —as well
about women and higher education, and |
States Constitution. This seems to be a com-
as free men and women with AIDS who
wanted to share some of my experiences.
Poli Sci in '65
Your flyer about the upcoming education
Heresies 25
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At thirty | was a political science major,
attending a university that was part of the
me, and kissed me—not passionately or
romantically, but hard. I| immediately got the
California state college system. It was the
message about what | was expected to do
1965—66 term, and | was to graduate in
to get my grade changed upward.
1966, after having completed my first two
Well, two can play the game. |I let him
years at a junior college. I had been a high
kiss me, and when he got to the point of
school dropout, had two children and a
wanting to go to a more private setting, |
husband, did all the housework, and
told him I couldn't that day, as I had a hus-
had to commute thirty miles one way to
band who would wonder where | was. He
school.
suggested we “make an appointment,”
There were only three political science
professors, as the school was newly
which we did. The next day | went to my
only female political science professor at the
opened—lI was in the first (four-year) grad-
university and told her the story. She said
uating class. The “leading male” prof was
she knew a way to fix it. She called him on
aloof and rarely allowed me to speak, but
the phone, told him she was my adviser,
being older I had the guts to speak up any-
that | was graduating in a month, and that
way. Word soon got to me from other stu-
she had to know my grade in advance of
dents that he couldn't understand why a
receiving the transcript. He told her | had
married woman was going to college: What
an A. Later in the day he called me at home,
would she do when she got out?
and | had the great pleasure of saying
No mentors at that place, | can tell you!
Of course, l-wouldn't have known a mentor
“Sucker,” and hanging up. In spite of her
having helped me in this situation, my “sav-
if I saw one. But my college days were one
ior” apparently never did anything for any
of the factors that later led me to become a
of the other women students, nor did she
raging feminist.
In my last semester | was short of money
for books and fees and tried to borrow from
the college emergency fund. As a married
woman, | was refused a loan. I cashed in
one of my children’s and my own life insur-
ance policies to get $250.
SEXUAL HARASSMENT
While attending university, | decided to
make up some work I had started in 1964
at another state school. I contacted my former professor, who said I could make up
the work by writing a paper. I did so, and
he sent me a grade lower than | thought |
deserved. When | called to complain, he
become involved in the women's movement
as far as I know.
GRADUATION
It’s possible I was the top student among
the political science majors, but my unseasoned new school decided to have only one
graduating classification— “with honors” —
for people with averages of 3.0 and above. |
had a 3.5 average, completing four years in
three with two semesters off in between, so
I couldn't be faulted for not being a serious
student. In my last semester | carried twenty-
one units while doing dishes, laundry, kids’
homework, and dealing with a husband,
since replaced, who was suddenly threatened by my impending graduation.
asked me to see him in his office, but after
One fellow student (male) whose average
arriving there he suggested we talk over cof-
fee at the cafeteria. Everything seemed nor-
was under three points was “liked” by the
department, so they created the classifica-
mal until we got to the cafeteria and he pro-
posed that we have a drink instead. Well, |
tion “With Distinction” for him and arranged
his entry into the master’s program at a
was thirty years old and had had drinks with
men before, including other professors, so
without thinking much about it, | agreed.
We went to a nearby bar and ordered.
All of a sudden he turned to me, grabbed
major university.
In sisterhood,
Barbara A. St. John
Editor, Teaching Equity
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89 —
Heresies 25
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am trying to be a mediøAl student. Or—lI am
that his excruciating leg pain has stopped.
medical student. Who is this I, and what is this
role? I hide in the bathroom sometimes, for pri-
The rest of the week, as | learned to diagnose ear
MARTHA REED HERBERT
infections and sore throats, the usual ailments of children, I watched Martin's impact on the community of
vacy, or perhaps to cry. | weep, feeling like a
doctors in the hospital. Everyone knew his story and
soldier in the medical army, a cipher in my little
white coat with my toy doctor tools in my pockets,
felt chastened; a doctor two weeks previously hadn't
pretending competence. Only rarely, and barely, does
even noticed the mass on his back. What a frighten-
the gaze of my superiors discern any qualities l've
ing oversight! Our future patients with back pain will
come to treasure over nearly four decades as my self.
bring Martin to mind, and remind us never to treat
l am to learn the skills and the telegraphic communi-
complaints as merely routine.
I work in an enormous tertiary care medical center,
cation style of the doctor's world. What relevance is
my self—my insights, my associations—to this task?
with esteemed experts and the highest technology.
Outside, the park benches across the street are part
Just as an airline pilot speaking over a scratchy radio
would inject dangerous ambiguity by broadcasting
of the neighborhood's housing stock. And the drug
metaphors about clouds, I as a doctor must be pre-
trade in the neighborhood may be as big a business
as the hospital. A rumor among local pregnant teen-
cise and concise, or someone might die.
agers that crack eases labor pains influences even
Martin, a ten-year-old boy, was the first patient |
saw in pediatrics. I had looked forward to this rota-
the nonusers to come in high for delivery. If a urine
toxicology screen reveals crack, they take the baby
tion because | love children. Peter Pan's “I won't grow
up” is one of my theme songs. Kids aren't yet fully
In a small
Their world is play and imagination. Martin's parents
community where
people live
together their
first exam by the intern found nothing wrong, except
for a large and painless swelling by his lower spine
whole lives,
to myself, I now often pathetically serve as translator.
But why are these Native American and African-look-
is no way to
to examine the boy and then whispered in small clusters in the hall. I kept the family company as best
can't even talk with them, since so many speak no
English. Because | managed to teach some Spanish
generations, there
truth. The examining room became a crossroads of
specialists from all over the hospital who descended
taught Spanish; as a result, after all the rhetoric about
how we should relate humanely to our patients, we
and for many
saw that none of Martin's pain could be explained by
trauma, our eyes met to honor the awful emerging
ber that much raw information. But with all the
school’s zeal to prepare us for our work, we weren't
that looked as if a whale were coming up for air. |
helped the neurologist do the second exam. As we
schools recently told my school to cut down their curriculum by 25 percent because no one can remem-
now his legs were hurting, too. Young boys love horseplay even more than | do, I thought to myself. The
no crack rehab programs.
The national accreditation association for medical
told us his back had been hurting since someone had
kicked him a few months ago in the playground, and
away, and the only way the mother can get her baby
back is to get in a crack rehab program. But there are
suckered, bribed, and beaten into believing bullshit.
ing people speaking Spanish?
On weekends I've been reading about genocide.
pretend that the
Mick Taussig's Shamanism, Colonialism and the Wild
Man talks about the holocaust inflicted by the Putu-
I could.
Martin was admitted a few hours later, and was soon
misfortune of one
leaves the others
pled him for life in just a few more days. Not that he's
likely to live for more than another year; his cancer is
wildly disseminated. Even though he hasn't been told
his prognosis, he does know that he can walk, and
mayo rubber profiteers on the Indians. Unspeakable
brutality and the murder of millions, rationalized by
rushed to emergency neurosurgery to free his spine
from the pressure of a tumor that would have crip-
projections of the white man's own barbarism onto
the victims. Yet while the whites despised the Indi-
unaffected.
ans, they still turned to them for their healing, because strangely it seemed to work.
Does my brand of healing work? How many times
The Art of
Education
=90
|
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Lynne Cohen
have I turned my clinical gaze upon some Hispanic
The white man brought not just new kinds of germs
mother with her stuffed-nosed child and repeated the
to sicken bodies, but a plague to kill cultures. In a
incantation of my attending physician: “Your child
small community where people live together their
has a viral illness. Don't worry about it; come back in
whole lives, and for many generations, there is no
a few days if it doesn't get better, or right away if the
way to pretend that the misfortune of one leaves
fever gets very high.” And the mother meekly accepts
the others unaffected. So where, then, is the boun-
my pronouncement and goes to the desk to fill out
the Medicaid paperwork.
dary between reweaving the social web and restoring
the body's integrity? And where do we want the boun-
By what authority do I deem the child to be stricken
with an innocuous virus? As one of the more forthright attending physicians confided in me, “When we
tell them this, we're really just blowing hot air out of
dary to be?
What is a viral illness, anyway? Native healing systems didn't have the category of viral illness. Does
that prove they were merely hocus-pocus? Is it simply
our mouths. If we wanted to prove it, we'd have to run
that Western medicine is more thorough and scienti-
viral cultures, and they take too long and are too ex-
fic? Then why is the molecular biology of viruses so
pensive anyway. And even then there's usually no
treatment.”
abstracted from the social context of contagion? And
why is the body reduced to a set of physical func-
Why has this mother been reduced to turning to
tions? How do I tell my patients that their illnesses
the likes of me—indeed, the likes of any of us—for
are equally caused by exploitation, uprootedness, and
her medical advice? I am told that native medicines
used to work a lot better before the white man cam2.
violencę? And why are we reduced to me, the budding professional, having to tell them? How did they
Heresies 25
L6
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gain what we professionals call ignorance?
back into the socia/ body. And even this social body is
too often mechanical.
hile Europeans were destroying native cultures abroad, they were burning the bearers of their own cultures’ folk knowledge at
In my preclinical psychiatry course, we interviewed
a nun from a conservative church who was hospitalized for depression. She told us she had been work-
the stake. Women and native peoples were
ing in a mission in South America, and went into crisis
hunted, degraded, and killed to make way
because she had never imagined such poverty. When
for mechanistic thinking and the rule of the market.
she questioned why God would allow such misery, she
And expansionism and pursuit of profit seemed to be
was told by her superiors that such thoughts were
fueled by a visceral horror of sensuality and rooted-
sinful. The psychiatrist teaching us made sure we
ness. Nature and natives, women and witches were
asked all the standard biopsychiatric questions about
seen as unruly and disorderly, needing to be subdued
depression: ‘Have you been having trouble sleeping?
and controlled. Science vehemently excluded unmea-
Has your appetite changed? Are you tired? Do you
surable sense perception, and any knowledge not
feel low self-esteem? Are you having trouble concen-
mathematizable was strictly second class. | learn this
trating? Are you finding it hard to make decisions? Do
too in my medical training, as they transform me from
you have feelings of hopelessness?” I was the only
a they into a we. “We're only interested in the facts,”
one in the room who asked her about South America
I was told recently when | gave an interpretation dur-
and her church. When | asked her if she'd ever heard
ing rounds. But what is a fact? A fact is something
of Liberation Theology, the teacher cut me off. That
that someone is around to measure and document.
night I complained bitterly to a radical psychiatrist
That means that most things that happen don't get
friend, expressing my horror that a coherent woman
to be facts.
would be incarcerated in a mental ward and kept from
So what things are fact enough to earn entry into
the medical record? Diagnosis: malignant mechanis-
learning about the context of her crisis. “Martha,”
my friend said to me, ‘stay horrified.”
tic market economy in Europe; leading to robbery,
genocide, and destruction of native lands; followed
have recently crossed a threshold, moving from
by violent uprooting; then chronic racism and exploi-
seeing the hospital as an alien and inhospitable
tation, with poor heating, poor nutrition, and over-
culture to dreaming about it every night and
crowding, providing a grand welcome for pathogens.
finding it intriguing. This is good, because it’s
If I could write that in the chart, it would no longer be
enough to give the medicines and advise the bed rest
hard to learn without falling in love, or at least
having a little fling. But it is also dangerous. | am feel-
that many in truth cannot afford to take. But only in
ing the seductive power now of the medical team, and
scattered progressive pockets do practitioners of so-
of the hospital world. l’d barely even imagined such a
cial medicine even attempt to move beyond seeing
complex community of cooperation. The medical cen-
illness as an individual's problem to putting the virus
ter where | work and study employs about forty thou-
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sand people. I do not know very much about the
Mouths move much faster than faces or gestures can
functioning of the whole: it overwhelms me. | barely
keep pace. Eyes only track horizontally, or perhaps down
know the parts of it where | am starting to participate. |
to a page, but they do sometimes smile.
can hardly conceive how to bridge the gap between
What do such eyes not see? Of what does such knowl-
calculating body fluid management and giving com-
edge remain ignorant? I| sometimes wonder whether
passion and comfort.
my very thoughtfulness and tenderness betray the trust
Only recently, while helping a physical examiner more
of my patients. If I put them off guard, if | allay their
skilled than I am, did I glimpse that sensitively palpat-
suspicions, into what have | seduced them? One day in
ing someone's abdomen for masses, or thoughtfully dis-
pediatrics, we rounded on the cardiology ward to see
cerning unusual heart sounds, could be a way of
the “interesting findings.” A two-year-old girl, born with
expressing love. The act of putting a stethoscope on
a gross heart malformation, had been given a heart
someone's body could be done with both tenderness
transplant. Already back from death several times, she
and utmost respect. I saw the reverence with which
is kept on an immunosuppressive drug that has grown
one could bear—not merely witness, but know/edgeable
black hair all over her arms and legs, and sideburns on
witness to another's physical being. And some of my
her face. Her immune system is kept from rejecting
physician preceptors have even taught me in this way.
the alien heart, but it will also fail to fight infection or
I treasure my times with my patients, for both the
cancer, of which she will probably die. As I approached
leisure of slow thoroughness | am granted as a stu-
her chest with my stethoscope, probably the fifteenth
dent, and for the ease and grace of conversation with
person to do so in as many minutes, she raised up her
regular people. It's easier for me to be they than we,
leg and fiercely kicked my hand away. I backed off.
even in my white coat, which reminds us who is who in
She'd made herself as clear as she could, I thought,
the hospital. But these intervals punctuate a day spent
without knowing how to talk. The next student, though,
in a different time warp. In the amount of time it takes
me to keep track of my three patients, my interns keep
was undaunted and placed his stethoscope on her
How do I tell my
track of a whole floor and my senior residents keep
track of the whole hospital. Moments of pride I've felt
patients that their
in grasping my patient's case have felt smaller beside
the doings of these others, who already know my pa-
exploitation,
told them she would have a longer life? Did they tell
her how new the procedure is and how risky the drugs?
and violence?
have? Did the surgeons ask the parents to consecrate
Did they discuss what kind of a life their child would
can help to think about a single patient.
Perhaps there is a different kind of grace operating
their daughter to the advancement of medical science? |
And why are we
here: the virtuosity of coordinating complicated information. Like a foreigner who can finally understand
guage that | still can barely speak. And the language is
the budding
“Have you ever listened to your heartbeat?” He said
professional,
tened. He looked very interested. How many doctors
no. She put her stethoscope in his ears, and he lis-
deviation from its unstated normal range opens out to
had seen him, in the half of his life that he’s spent in
having to tell
skiing a steep, fast slope where the trees don't matter
much unless they're in the way. Yet it still seems odd to
Another patient, eight years old, had a very loud heart
murmur that we all went to hear. My friend asked him,
full of numbers, spit out rapidly, where the order re-
a universe of pathophysiological significance. It’s like
wonder if the parents are too numb by now to see their
own daughter's rage.
reduced to me,
enough words to hear sentences, | am learning a lan-
veals the identity of each, and where a single figure's
formed from a dead duck to a live guinea pig? Had they
uprootedness,
choose which patients to send for tests. | am still
amazed at case conferences to see how many people
What had the surgeons told her parents? How had
they persuaded them to allow their daughter to be trans-
tem. | do not page the neurologist or endocrinologist
for a consult on my own initiative. I do not (or not much)
gled some trinkets above the girl's face. ‘Look at the
pretty toys," he said.
equally caused by
sometimes medically important. But I do not yet have
authority or knowledge to bring to bear the larger sys-
sion on her face. An even clearer message, but this
time unheeded. Finishing his exam, the student dan-
illnesses are
tient’s whole story and much more. True, my greater
intimacy lets me uncover, or recall, details which are
chest. The girl furiously kicked her arms and legs, and
shook her head from side to side with a rageful expres-
the hospital, without thinking to offer him their
stethoscopes?
them?
I teach my patients what I'm doing whenever | can,
me how little “affect,” as doctors call it , is expressed
whenever they show the slightest interest. Before | went
in this communication. Even the humor is deadpan.
to medical school, I taught biology and basic science
Heresies 25
— E€6
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Joni Sternbach Untitled, 1989, photograph.
to working-class adults. While teaching I saw the most
her aunt. Having escaped from that dire fate myself, |
poignant desire to learn, matched of course by the pau-
wanted to save her, too. | lavished praise on her
city or resources society assigns to such low-priority
intelligence—to her mother (in Spanish), to the attend-
human beings: no labs or equipment, no libraries, and
ing physicians, to anyone who could mirror it back to
me as a teacher, self-taught in science with my art and
her. And I gave her my instruments, and let her exam-
humanities degrees. Yet | taught them better than |
ine me. She looked into my eyes with my ophthalmo-
was later taught in school myself. I nurtured then—and
scope and saw the delicate red blood vessels spidering
still nurture—a vision of a people's reappropriation of
their way along the yellow retina toward the optic nerve
science. And | truly believe you can seduce anyone if
—and she even saw them pulsing with the heartbeat.
you figure out how to tickle their curiosity. Play and
She saw my eardrum, with the tiny sound-conducting
intrigue can melt hard armor, and they are the way
bones behind it, and the opalescent way it reflects the
back, I think, to connected creativity, to thinking for
light. She looked inside my nose and peered up into
ourselves and together about how to live on this earth.
the tall, dark, and narrow nasal cavern with its sheer,
l am daunted now, inside the belly of the monster, by
steep, curving pink walls. She listened to my heart and
the enormous effort and reevaluation this vision de-
her mother’s and her brother's and her own. | taught
mands. Maybe | should stick with the play and com-
her how to measure blood pressure. | told her that
passion, and forget the knowledge and skill. But it’s
there's nothing worse than being deadly bored, and that
too late for that; curiosity has me hooked.
she shouldn't let anyone stop her from dreaming big
dreams. “Go to college,” I said, “You'll thrive on the
ne day, when the clinic was slow, an eight-
challenge, and it will be fun.” And I hope I gave her
year-old girl came in with her sick little
something to remember. With the choices I saw her
brother. While she bubbled over with ques-
facing, I didn't stop to discuss what she might forget.
tions about every little thing I did, she told me
how she could never go to college because it
would be too hard—she wanted to be a secretary like
Martha R. Herbert is a teacher, writer, medical student, and
unrepentant materialist utopian.
The Art of
efori ejg
—- 94
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NOTICE
This is to inform our readers that the “Women on Men” issue is being delayed
as a result of our former office manager having removed without permission
more than $12,000 from the Heresies corporation account (monies that were
a combination of state and federal grants awarded for the publication of
the “Women on Men” issue). In addition, at that time she also collected and
removed all the materials for the “Women on Men” issue. To date she has
refused to return either the funds or the materials to us. Heresies Collective,
Inc. has been in litigation with her and her husband, who was also a
signatory on the account into which the funds were originally placed, but
to date we have been unable to settle.
An injunction was obtained by our lawyers against the defendants in the case
entitled Heresies v. Kenny and Alexander, which is pending in the New York
County Supreme Court. We expect to go to trial before the end of this year
to resolve this matter. Further information can be obtained from our attorneys,
Alterman & Boop, P.C., 349 Broadway, New York, NY 10013, Tel. 212-226-2800.
CAREL MOISEIWITSCH
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' b674 đ
MADHOUSE MADHOUSE KATE MILLETT
In 1972 through misguided family intervention I was caught and held in a California madhouse.
And again in 1980, this time in Ireland where my sympathy with the hunger strikers and my ‘record’
made it possible for the police to commit me indefinitely to a back ward asylum in County Clare.
Kate Millett is a
New York sculptor
and writer. She has
been sculpting in ,
mixed media for f
30 years.
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Sio
FEER SEIRENA
:
: ASEE AoA
Claire Moore The Secret, artist's book, ca. 1987.
Claire Moore 1912—1988
The Secret was one of Claire Moore’s last hand-editioned books. A painter, writer, and teacher, Claire mimeographed her drawings and visual stories in book form before today’s copy machines were in broad use. Many of her
books are in the Museum of Modern Art library and the Franklin Furnace Archive.
Claire studied in New York with Werner Drewes and Fernand Leger and worked alongside Jackson Pollock in the mural painting workshop of
David Siquieros. She married, painted, and studied with David Park in California before returning to New York to raise her daughter, Nellie, as a
single parent. The figure and words about space and human anxieties, placed in a setting of outer space, were the subject of Claire's paintings of
the last years. A mentor to many artists, writers, and poets, Claire was optimistic about the future. She died in August 1988 before the openings of
a show of paintings at June Kelly Gallery and a show of works on paper at Susan Teller Gallery.
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0 ۱
0 Ole AOA
“OCR و3
` ISSN 0146-3411
$6.75
ارا ا تلا للا
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2 Te
o TT
r
ا
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I JUST WORKED,.
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I SUPPOSE MY WORK WAS ROOTED
IN THE WORK OF ARTISTS WHO CAME
H
J
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Í S
TO THOSE WHO RESPOND,
A WORK OF ART IS THE VISUAL,
VERRAL, AURAL EVIDENCE OF
A SINGULAR IDENTITY.
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SECRET
CF ART
IS THAT
IT IS 80
SIMPLE,
TO STATE
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ТНЕ ЅЕСВЕТ ВЕІОМСОЗ
ТО БУЕВҮОМЕ,
– МНІСН 1$ ЮНҮ
І ҒЕЕІ
ЕМВАНВАЅЅЕ)
ТВҮІМІ ТО
ЕХРІАТМ АВТ.
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IT IS ALWAYS
THE SAME SECRET,
REVEALED AT
DIFFERENT TIMES
AND PLACES IN
DIFFERENT WAYS.
ART IS THE PRIKAL SECRET THAT
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The nd
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A A = RR ESSERE
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will learn sho
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In order to become more flexible and
with the balance of each issue devoted
more responsive to exciting, current
to articles, features, departments, art of
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all kinds, fiction, poetry, and political/
nity, we'll be changing from a totally
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feminist. Material welcomed.
Guidelines for Contributors: Manuscripts should
or visual material must accompany their contribu-
«o a R AC EE E A
OAM 7A a E y SE SEEN o S
be typed double-spaced and submitted in duplicate.
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must have a black-and-white photograph or equiv-
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alent to publish the work. We will not be responsi-
mitted material. HERESIES pays a small honorar-
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must be accompanied by a stamped, self-addressed
Erratum: In HERESIES 24: 12 Years, Kate
Millett’s Madhouse, Madhouse fell victim to a
printer’s error. It is reproduced properly on
page 96.
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Robin Michals Sabra Moore Faith Wilding
Ann Sperry Rose Weil
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Fr
Heresies 25
Clarissa T. Sligh
Kindergarten Class—
Graduation 1970
È
Alice Shapiro
The Art of Education
Janet Vicario
Blind History
Mira Schor
On Failure & Anonymity
Judith K. Brodsky
w N A u
Nancy Wells
E.A. Racette
Donna Evans
Tomie Arai
Sara Pasti
Women, Art, and
53
Lucy R. Lippard
Aesthetic Questions
53
Ruth Bass and
54
Eva Grudin
Tracy
Cross-Cultural Issues
Marsha Cummins
Why do they
crave the experience?
9
51
53
Women’s Wheel
The Spinning of the Top
10
Untitled
10
The Wonderful
African America: Images,
Ideas and Realities
New York City School
Judy Malloy
Nikki Herbst
11
12
No Potato Chips
Lynne Cohen
13
Classroom
Cricket Potash
14
Seize the Time
Joni Sternbach
14
From the Cameo series
Marie Cartier
17
Poem: A Manual for Survival
17
Elementary School Class
the Drop Ins
Carolien Stikker
How to Make
Carolien Stikker
18
Country Window/Broken
Other Nature
Rap Sheet
People of Color at
Carolien Stikker
Barbara A. St. John
58
Hannah Wilke
60
Victoria Garton
60
Pamela Shoemaker
They Lied
Denise Tuggle
63
Carolien Stikker
66
Sheila Pinkel
66
Valerie Sivilli
68
Karen J. Burstein
68
Sara Pasti
Window
19
20
Question Marks
20
Toward a Synthetic
Art Education
Dress
Sewing Class
The Reception
21
Father and General
21
A Timely Existence
21
72
Carol Clements
73
Amy Edgington
74
Emma Amos
Brother and Sister / White
and Company
Dress I / Statue Pointing /
Critics
Jill Pierce
27
Diane Pontius
28
Clarissa T. Sligh
29
29
Kristin Reed
Tomie Arai
32
33
Pm Tired of Being Angry
Beating the Odds
Socrates
Love Story
On Being an American Black Student
The Interview
Boys’
Care
Centerthe: Body
in
the Club
South Day
Bronx
Educating
Pamela Wye
Predominant Ideology Classroom 3
Classroom 4
Welcome to You See
35
Learn to Earn
The Final Call
36
Mary Sojourner
38
Nancy Wells
38
40
Janet Culbertson
49
49
Judite dos Santos
49
Joni Sternbach
49
Dawn Aotani
78
Rachel Vigier
78
Brahna Yassky
Diane Pontius
79
80
Joan Herbst Shapiro
82
Kabuya P. Bowens
Dangerous Discussions
Dominican Republic
84
What They Write About
in Other Countries
The Offering
I Met a Man Who
Untitled
Anonymous, C.C. Hamil-
86
Catherine Clarke
87
Letters to the Editor
Fences
89
Sallie McCorkle
90
Martha Reed Herbert
The Beginning of an
Untitled I
Signs/Signals
Untitled
Bone By Bone
Alex Stavitsky
ton, Barbara A. St. John
Staying Horrified
Classroom
91
Lynne Cohen
Beehive
92
E.A. Racette
Untitled
94
Joni Sternbach
96
Kate Millett
Madhouse Madhouse
INSIDE
50
Carol Wolfe Konek
Dear Professor Vile
Extraordinary Friendship
Heather Susan Haley
Leigh Kane and
83
Knows He Knows
47
Nancy Spero
76
Chinatown
34
Batya Weinbaum
75
Kids Playing at the Gramercy
Learning to Play
Carol Feiser Laque
Jerilea Zempel
61
62
White Elitist Colleges
The Library
Gail Draper
57
Poem for Dirty Boys
Brainhouse
Aisha Eshe
Joni Sternbach
an Excellent Teacher
An Open-Trench-Coat
in the Gaza Strip
Meryl Meisler and
Sophie Rivera/LNS
56
Fifth Grade
So Help Me Hannah
Deborah Willis
55
System
Untitled
Pig of Knowledge
The Secret
BACK
Claire Moore
COVER
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C
N e
eNe
T. Heresies education
collective came together at Rutgers University.
O.. collective developed a healthy respect for the many scholarly
Several years have passed since we began work-
journals we combed for interesting subjects,
ing together, and some of us are no longer con-
formats, and ideas. Scholars and theoreticians
nected with that (or any other) university. We
write articles that reflect their years of research.
will, however, always be involved with the proc-
University presses and associations (such as the
ess of learning and will never cease being students
and teachers.
College Art Association) provide an enormous
service by publishing this work. The women who
responded to our call for submissions, however,
] nitially we believed that
working on the Heresies education issue would
responded not with theoretical material but with
serve to clarify ideas we had about the neces-
personal accounts of their own experiences with
education — formal and otherwise. We found
sity (or lack thereof) of formal education and a
that many women responded from the view-
university degree. We were also curious to hear
point of having been miseducated (or myth-
about women’s experiences in other learning sit-
educated; it seems there are an abundance of
uations. Once the collective began to meet, it became clear that the matter of formal education
institutional horror stories to be told). But we
was a secondary one.
inspired and uplifted us. In our search for mate-
also received many stories about learning that
rial we discovered that if rote learning, final exams,
O: primary importance,
tenure hearings, lesson plans, and racial and sex-
it seemed, was the effect of education, both for-
ual exploitation are integral to the process of ed-
mal and informal. How have we, and all other
ucation, so are warmth, introspection, and per-
women, been formed into who we are? What
sonal exploration.
role models have we followed, what constraints
T. women who wrote
and freedoms have we been taught? How has
what we’ve been taught affected our dreams and
to us have insights and visions to share that might
expectations of what we can hope to achieve in
our lives? These are some of the questions that
not have found a place in the more “serious” publications. We desired to take our contributors se-
helped shape this issue of Heresies.
riously and become a platform for their voices.
SARA PASTI is a painter, printmaker, and arts organizer who lives and works in Brooklyn.
E.A. RACETTE is an artist and founder of Biophilic Activities Inc.
VALERI SIVILLI is a painter/printmaker/teacher/gardener who lives and works in Brooklyn, NY/Frenchtown, NJ.
Special thanks to Miriam Taylor.
E vp
sinat
i i ` ON
EFL re
ON
7
S/a
3 , AN
DI
Staff: Avis Lang, managing editor A/thea N. Davidson, administrative assistant A/pha Selene Anderson, intern
Design: Mary Sillman Typesetting: Kathie Brown and U.S. Lithograph, typographers
Editorial and Production Assistance: Laura Baird Sue Heinemann Lanie Lee Kate Panzer Risa Wallberg
Printed by Wickersham Printing Company, Inc., Lancaster, Pennsylvania
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I (The Beginning)
Sitting small so as to be unnoticed,
my stomach spoke in alternations
of pain and fear.
Ill (The End)
Looking back I wonder if the teacher saw
the anxious looks of dread
Out from under the thumbs of others,
and passed me by deliberately.
the search for who I was began.
Ah, Compassion, I honor thee.
Again and once again the repetition
of the school and its command
Publicity, it seems, was evidently
brought me back to recognition
the real root of agony,
of that fearful child.
and not the unknowingness of facts.
I acted out the same scenario, wasting time,
Apprehension of close attention to my self
until at last, leaning forward,
chased away the open exchange of ideas,
lifting the chains from my ankles
and I passed through schooltime
without a blink,
in a huge cocoon of self-made isolation.
I tossed them to the side.
II (The Middle)
IV (Epilogue)
Somehow (the magic oft all!) — a slit,
Yesterday I met a man.
a tiny crevice in the wrapping
His esoteric school, he chastened,
showed me wondrous worlds
stood for helping hands.
that needed to be known.
Even though, he hastened to reveal,
And only through participation
we must trust just ourselves,
could I move from plant to flower.
it cannot be done alone.
I reached and drank.
The moisture nourished my anorexic soul
and filled it not with facts,
but questions.
Still frail and stupid
from so many dark Decembers,
mistakes were plentiful,
and starting over came to be a trend.
Alice Shapiro has published poetry in Poetry Connoisseur (national anthology prizewinner), Assembling 13, and several anthology publications. Also a playwright, her
first work, Four Voices, was produced in 1988 and received the Bill C. Davis Drama Award.
Heresies 25
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Јапеѓ Уйсагќо ѓо ап агііаі сиггеп Ну іпеоіоед ийЬ тедќа рЬоѓодгарЬу. ЅЬе оед іп МУС апд іп Ње рамі ўїое уеаго Баа огдапіхед +Њоша нй РАОО.
ИЙ Тае]
Еаисайоп
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he most useful course
that an art school could
offer today would be one
spite the change in emphasis.
The basic fact of the artist's existence remains that no one asks
called “On Failure And Anonym-
you to do whatever it is that you
ity,” for these are the truest condi-
do, and just about no one cares
tions of the artist's life, all artists,
once you've done it. Art in our era
even the great and famous ones.
Art schools are graduating hundreds of MFAs, thousands of BFAs
a year; many of these graduates
is a self-generated activity, and the
marketplace is for most artists just
a transient delusion.
Which of these existences
have their eyes firmly fixed on the youthful fame and
should art schools prepare students for? The fantasy
financial success of a handful of exceptionally tal-
of a retrospective at a New York museum before the
ented, ambitious, and lucky men. In one generation
age of forty or the lifetime of art practice? The answer
art has come from being considered a financially mar-
some students give is distressing. A CalArts graduate
ginal occupation to being seriously thought of as a
presented a paper at a CAA conference some years
potential source of wealth. :
ago in which she blamed the school for not having
This view is encouraged by the present confusion
prepared her for the realities of the art market,
between the older values and romantic scenarios of
specifically for not having provided enough of a post-
“high” art and the contemporary art market, a confu-
graduate network of connections to help her market
family farm and agribusiness. The long becoming of
emphasis on networking and salesmanship is huck-
an artist, the lifelong search for meaningful form, is
sterism, self-commodification, packaging at the ex-
her work and herself. But the logical outcome of this
being interfered with by a huge influx of money and
pense of content. The art precipitated by this impera-
of media attention and influence. Artists are now pres-
tive to “make it” tends to be fast work that can be
sured by considerations and expectations of immedi-
sold easily and quickly. Even “angst” must be “lite.”
ate, youthful financial success, although the ratio
The transformative nature of artwork may be degraded
of such successes has not significantly altered de-
into the distillation of “Raw Hype” into ‘Pure Hype,”
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as depicted in a New Yorker cartoon.
In the last five years not a term has gone by without
a few, inevitably male, students bringing up how much
money art is selling for. Only once in a while has a
student, usually female, told me that she was in art
ommend it to anyone except to the artist for whom
there is no other choice.
However, some artists are ‘successful’ in the commercial sense. But that success may not come for
years, it probably will not last if it does come, and it
school to “find out what this painting thing was
has unforeseen consequences. No matter how imper-
about,” and, even more significantly, looked to me
vious the individual may feel to corruption, success
with some concern and asked if, being a woman artist, I had a “life”?
Problems particular to gender aside, yes, I have a
can corrupt, erasing past ideas and ideals. The earlier it comes the more likely that is. Success is never
enough; the need for more is insatiable. Success can
life. But the question is a crucial one. Expectations
lead to paranoia. Those young men everyone looks to
of glory veil the real life of the artist, and if being in
as examples are all obsessed with those who might
the studio is the priority, the life is difficult.
Let us consider first the more obvious and predictably difficult life of the artist who is not a financial
want to get at them, knock them down. Because of
their success they see themselves as targets, as indeed they had targeted the previous generation, for
success (that is to say, the majority of artists). This is
the link between progress/success and forms of patri-
a life of total insecurity. The artist is a pre-Columbian
cide is grafted into the belief structure of Western
sailor adrift on a flat ocean at whose edge is an abyss.
just past the point the rent money runs out. Jobs are
civilization. Success can be paralyzing; approval can
prevent change, because change risks the destruc-
boring, ill paying, distracting,
tion of the desired commodity.
and exhausting. Or a more seri-
Conversely, enforced, artificial
ous involvement with a “real” job
thrēatens the continuity and ultimately the continuation of artwork. The committed artist risks
being perennially broke, not to
say penniless, a bum in fact. To
be poor is to be infantilized in
a country where adulthood is
“change” can become the commodity. Praise can be as intimidating as criticism. Both equally
disturb the ecology of the life of
the studio.
Real success is the ability to
continue making art that is alive.
For this the artist has to be edu-
equated with financial indepen-
cated to another set of values and
dence. This life is grueling, ego
a broader scope. Yet art schools
battering, embittering, filled
underemphasize practical skills,
with deprivation. I do not rec-
liberal arts courses, and, worse
IANA
Education
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yet, even their art history courses are often insufficient
paths that are taken. Life continues only as long as
and cursory.
the blind chase down the path. There is tremendous
To survive the long run, to continue to function,
fear on that chase because the relationship between
someone ought to tell you that there is a long run. To
artist and artwork is one of intimacy with the self,
survive, it is necessary to stand for something within
and intimacy is truly terrifying and can never be fully
yourself and yet to always doubt your own deepest
achieved. The closer one comes to something really
beliefs. It is necessary to have the agglomeration of
intimate (which may seem really foreign), the faster
terrors and hopes, delights, and doubts that make up
one springs back, and thereby fails.
a soul. Perhaps a soul is culturally bound and determined, but it can be more than a slave to fashion.
espite the fear of intimacy and the impos-
Follow fashion and be fifteen minutes late. Trends
sibility of achieving completeness within
are fleeting. A lifetime of art cannot be built on a
and without, there can be a wonderful
weather vane.
sense of anonymity in the practice of art. As at a noisy
Real failure comes to those who accept their status
flea market, sometimes a silence and a slowness can
quo, who do not press against their limitations. This
overcome the busyness, and then small, insignificant
seems to happen more or less to almost all artists, at
treasures become distinct. In these moments you know
some point down the path. The artist is an organism,
no one and are no one. A friend of mine describes in
genetically condemned to atrophy and death as all
terms of reverence and sexuality the rags she wears
living organisms are. Only the persistence of dissat-
when she paints. Every layer discarded and replaced
isfaction and struggle ensure a
by street clothes is an added layer
true form of success in the life of
of anxiety and loss of intimacy
the artist.
with her self.
The life of the work, the ecol-
The greatest thing an art school
ogy of the studio is what | am in-
could give a student is access to
terested in, when the doors are
this anonymous life of the studio,
closed on the pressures of the
recognition of its supreme impor-
marketplace. And in this life there
tance to the inner survival of the
is always failure, no matter how
artist, and to the creation of mean-
much money is made. For it is a
ingful art that transcends fashion
and money. X
given that there is always a gap
between what the artist wants the
work to be and what it is, between
Mira Schor, a painter living in New York,
is coeditor of ME/A/N/Y/N/G, a jour-
the original goal and the weird
nal of contemporary art.
Nancy Wells
Heresies 25
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: E. A. RACETTE
In third grade there was one bad boy named James
He gave the nun the finger, the bird, flipped her off,
or whatever term you know for that hand signal that means fuck.
She was soooo upset! and obvi i
viously excited. She went and told
the other nun and they both, together, made each of us children
individually, by ourselves, come out into the hall and describe to them
what the sign meant!!! and they kept asking for more details.
I don’t know what the other«children said. I said it's when two grown
people take off all their clothes, and they said, “YESSSSSS ...???
o..
AND ...???”
And they put their bodies together, I said. Iwas so shy
and nervous and I felt that I wasn’t supposed to know so I felt
shame because I knew. They were so insistent on my describing it.
Now I am imagining how wet their sweet little cunts must have been that day.
<> > M a A A A i iA i i A A a R a A
Donna J. Evans is a printmaker-cartoonist-painter-bookmaker. She wads born in Dayton, Ohio, in 1956 and
moved to NYC in 1984.
The Art of
Education
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Fifth Grade
On the wooden floor
NIKKI HERBST
plaster-of-Paris bust of
Katherine Karr drew the
GREAT LAKES
in white chalk so she could
ETCH the image
and it SMASHED
on the floor
right next to Buzzy Olsen.
in their minds.
Lake Erie had little whitecaps
where she'd hit the floor
I can't remember
repeatedly
if he'd been asleep, noisy, or stupid
during her lecture.
he was
so often
I felt her anger as she jumped
from a chair
to STOMP a verb-with-no-object into them
landing BANG on old-lady black shoes:
JUMP!
She worked, climbing from the Great Lakes
ASLEEP, NOISY, or STUPID
and no one knew
if she'd missed on purpose
so it worked
for AWHILE to keep
their attention.
to the chair top
again, BANG,
and again, BANG:
JUMP!
I went in early and stayed late
and she şnapped at me:
THERE'S NOTHING FOR YOU HERE
well, take this
She was dry and thin but
she could land
HARD: NOW,
who can tell me what kind of verb
'jump'
is? While the others laughed
and READ it.
I read THE AGONY AND THE ECSTASY
right there in class
while she tried to teach them
arithmetic, geography, and social studies
jumping, throwing, and shouting.
or stared open-mouthed
I squirmed
wanting to SHAKE them.
I loved her.
Later there were other books she gave me:
read THIS.
But they also meant:
don't raise your hand to answer in class
She put us in rows: you are
the HAVES, you are
the HAVE-NOTS.
She didn't have patience for niceties:
or the others will never try.
They also meant:
I'm sorry.
I ACCEPTED
these two rows are the
the whole message
bluebirds and the rest of you
tucked inside the book bribes.
are the redbirds.
She had to teach the SIMPLEST THINGS
to those who'd been
nicely lied to
for years already.
After the first quarter
I took my
report card with my
FIRST EVER GOOD GRADE IN CITIZENSHIP
and jammed it
She apologized
for neglecting us haves
at my fourth grade teacher's FACE
as I passed her in the hall
but she never said I'm sorry
or at least
when she threw
that's what I remember.
the gold-painted
I was TRIUMPHANT.
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e و
eevee
Heresies 25
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Lately the names and images of special
kids have started coming back to me from
my fifteen years as an elementary school
teacher. Some days | wake up with an urgent need to get to school, to get on with
the work. Some days | wake up with a
warm feeling as if I've made contact with
“my kids” for the first time, a glow of rec-
ognition and accomplishment like an enthusiastic hug. Often | see the kids or their
parents in my dreams: Leticia with her long
black braids so tight they gave her almondshaped eyes; Jesus with his starched,
CRICKET POTASH
ironed white shirt daily, accompanied by
his mother always in a black shawl; Jimmy
and his mom waiting in the yard; Jose's
father coming in the door with the cardboard shoe he'd made.
My first year as a teacher was 1969. |
Angeles because | knew some Spanish:
;At the time Spanish wasn't needed
for the job, even though most of the kids
had never spoken anything else. Technically a barrio is a neighborhood, though
the word is often used as a synonym for
ghetto. Even now in the late 1980s East
Los Angeles has the largest Spanishspeaking population outside Mexico City.
In 1969 we were part of the last wave of
teachers hired in a teacher shortage.
In many ways conditions have never
been so wonderful for teachers in the public schools as they were then. The 1970s
were years today’s teachers can only imagine, especially if they teach in inner-city
schools. We had money for materials and
training from many federal titles: compensatory education, bilingual education, sex
equity, and so on. We were to/d to be innovative, to develop our own curricula. We
were rewarded for involving community
volunteers; we were encouraged to develop
learning continuums, to hold parent conferences instead of reducing a child’s
learning mastery to a single letter or number. | rejoice that | never häd to fill our a
report card until the e i of my career.
I hurried through my teaching years.
Many things that happened didn't really
experience at the time. Now%they seem
Joni Sternbach
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to be floating right on the surface of my
memory. | reach in and there they are,
and to see it displayed.
Daily we sang, in Spanish, the song'‘tfläi
encapsulated, wrapped in wonderful iri-
was the shoe's inspiration. This short fit
descent globes, ready to be taken out and
song—“El Zapatero (The Shoemaker)” —
examined.
I had had to abruptly leave the class-
proved to be a favorite. The lyrics and a
translation (not lyrical) follow:
room—a profession, an identity, and a
community in which I had invested fifteen
EL ZAPATERO
Yo lo dije al zapatero
acute exacerbation of multiple sclerosis,
a disease | knew I had but which had produced no symptoms in me for over ten
years. Suddenly, bumping into walls and
not being able to stand for more than five
minutes, worrying about falling down the
que me hiciera unos zapatos
con el piquito redondo,
como tienen los patos.
¡Malhaya zapatero!
Como me engano!
Me hizo los zapatos
stairs more than the kids getting out safely
y el piquito no!
during a fire drill, not being able to quickly
get to the kid who had split his lip to com-
fort him, I was forced to face my need to
leave teaching. Now | have more time to
remember those years.
One memory: the cardboard-and-construction-paper shoe Jose's father made
for us, an exact copy of a sturdy walking
shoe, probably the size that would have fit
his seven-year-old son. I accepted it with
“mil gracias,” a thousand thanks, and a
THE SHOEMAKER
I told the shoemaker
to make me some shoes
with a tip as round
as a duck's beak.
That darn shoemaker!
How he tricked me!
He made the shoes but
Not the tip! s
P”
E7
my working table, where the children
four
would see it when they came to work with
Piquito means little beak as well as tip.
me. Now it's on a shelf above my desk.
Jose's father made his shoe with a won-
It’s faded and has been mended several
derful bird's beak.
times in its travels—the colours were
bright when | first saw it. The body is made
For me, the first three years of teaching
from a heavy brown supermarket bag, the
were the hardest. | learned to juggle the
heel and sole made of cardboard finished
hundreds of small, slippery balls that were
off smoothly, like slick new soles. Bright
aspects of my profession: schedules,
green satin wrapping ribbon decorates
meetings, spitballs, parent conferences,
candy addiction, test anxieties (theirs and
mine) fist fights, and outright defiance. |
fringed section of purple construction
learned basic control techniques as well
paper that holds the laces and gracefully
as my own limitations—just how many
ends in e/ piquito, the head and beak of
reading groups | could keep track of and
a bird. There are also upside-down horse-
how much homework I would look at. The
shoes on the ankles, cut out of bright
week I had yard duty was especially chal-
multicolored wrapping paper. The top lace
lenging. I couldn't do any set-up or relax
hole, carefully punched, holds a small
with a cup of coffee or go to the bathroom |
name tag with the artist's spelling of his
while the kids were out at recess. It be- a Nu
name, “Joze.” | try to imagine what it
came almost Pavlovian to respond to bels.
meant to Jose, an illiterate itinerant worker,
Even today | find myself sort of waiting for. Pp
to make this for his son to take to school
something at 11:30 a.m.—it's time for the
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C
lunch bell. I learned to extend my authority from my person (5' 3” tall and parked
dance as they spun their chrysalises. The
class clown held his breath along with the
near the lunch benches) to the far kickball
rest of us as the furry caterpillars sealed
diamond without shouting or running after,
themselves into their temporary changing
for example, the culprit with the matches. rooms. 1,
I learned to be larger than life, to have eyes The next two weeks were filled with in- $
everywhere and ears, too. How else could
I have learned those Spanish curses my
classroom was quickly converted into a
me? $
covered the walls with drawings ahd
scaled-down mission control centeriWe
loved all the learning I did during those
diagrams. What we had seen, what we
yeéärsrT was wide open to finding out who
guessed was going to happen, and what
these small people were, anxious to give
we had learned as fact. The chart rack
them the love and respect I felt I had been
carried daily bulletins; the science table
deprived of during my school years. |
held the jars of twigs with their strange
learned how much a seven-year-old knows
translucent leaves, the chrysalises. We
and how much a seven-year-old wants to
crossed off days on the calendar, read
know. I learned how easily, how quickly
what we recorded, drew pictures of what
their curiosity about the unknown and their
we saw. We used as many books as | could
tender confidence when they've learned
find to learn who these creatures were,
something new can be squelched with a
what would happen next.
harsh glance or an unjust rule.
I had a wonderful time learning with my
The class made predictions, developed
theories. Which one would come out first,
classes—keeping a Spanish/English dic-
what would it look like, would it be a but-
tionary at hand, right next to the Pequeño
terfly or “only” a moth? There was always
Larousse lllustrado with its encyclopedic
a team of at least two observers letting ev-
information and beautiful color illustra- =%
eryone know about any changes. Tu
# È tions. The Larousse was invaluable. How
This went on until one day during read- www
& fve else would we have known which dino- ; sx ing there was a silent movement noticed k seven
saur was which, or what to call webbed
by the observation team. A change of col-
feet in Spanish and how to distinguish
or that had been noticed yesterday was
them from talons? Or colors? Red, blue,
interesting—this was exciting.
and yellow simply weren't enough to name
the deep reddish-purple of Anna's jacket
Everything in the regular schedule%
stopped. No one cared if it wäStheir turn
or the shimmering green on the ducks in
to play handball. The kickball äiamond
the park.
was empty. There was no screaming, sfíov-
I learned to seize the time and teach
ing line at the water fountai
The, entire:
from what was happening. Like the day
class stayed in at recess to s
my class went out for their afternoon re-
happen next. We took the lids off the wide”
cess and found hundreds of woolly black
what would.»
mouthed jars and opened the trañsoms
caterpillars on the ground outside our tem-
in anticipation of the exodüs."©nçe again ø
porary bungalow. The fuzzy creatures
we all held our breath. Very slowly tħé
rained down from the mulberry trees, and
wet-winged newborns emerged. They
I think the girls jumping rope were first to
paused a moment to open and flex their
notice them as the ground got slickery
wings, then blew out of the room like tis-
under their feet. The cafeteria workers
sue paper scraps. One child, transfixed
scrounged some large empty mayonnaise
by the metamorphoses, asked in a whis-
jars for us. We collected leaves from the
per, “But ... where did they come from,
trees and twigs for the caterpillars to use
Teacher?" X
as anchors, then spent the rest of the afCricket Potash is an artiøst living in Los Angeles.
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EEE
P o e m
Write a poem beginning with “I want.”
MARIE CARTIER
and your bus driver
Write a poem about being in a room
in second grade
where everything is your favorite color
or your local drug pusher in tenth
and what you do there.
or your college admissions clerk
Write a poem about musical notes
or your first good English teacher.
that talk to you.
Then write a poem in appreciation
Write a poem about whether or not you were
of your own voice.
breast-fed and how that feels.
Write a poem meant to be sung.
Write a poem about your favorite fairy tale
Praise Bessie Smith in it.
and why.
Write a poem meant to be whispered.
Write a poem using five words
Praise Daniel Berrigan in it.
that describe your perfect mother.
Write a poem meant to be screamed.
Write a poem using five words
Praise Patti Smith in it.
that describe your perfect father.
Write a poem about being black (if you're white).
Write a poem about mothers and fathers.
Praise Angela Davis in it.
Write a poem about turning eleven
Write a poem about being white (if you're black).
and twenty-one
Praise Bobby Kennedy in it.
and what your initial thoughts were
Write a poem about being poor (if you have money).
on leaving decades behind.
Praise Caesar Chavez in it.
Write a poem that would solve the
Write a poem about being rich (if you have no money).
problems of the world
Praise Eleanor Roosevelt in it.
if everyone read it.
Write a poem about missing the city (if you're from the country).
Write a poem about candlelight, wine,
Praise neon lights in it.
soft music — alone.
Write a poem about missing the country (if you're from the city).
Write using your favorite part of your body
Praise a cornfield in it.
as the voice.
Write a poem about writing a poem
Write in the voice of your favorite musician
about writing a poem about writing a poem.
your best lover
Then write your poem.
your first-grade teacher
Praise yourself in it.
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Windows
We made a window with all really great stories, but
My friend told me to go back down the block. His sister
I have to admit mine was the best. I’m not trying to
was upset, his friends and everybody in his family were
be conceited or anything, but I just had to tell you
the truth.
very depressed.
I can tell you a lot about Lakisha Owens. She is nice,
My feelings about the story about Michael is that it was
a very sad thing that happened. He was shot, and I ran
down my block to see what was going on and everybody
was telling me that Michael was shot. I looked and I saw
blood dripping down from his neck. I was throwing up.
self-centered. She is fourteen years old. She can be very
quiet sometimes, but when she is mad it’s best that you
shouldn’t say nothing to her. She is very bashful sometimes. But Lakisha is very nice in her artwork, and she
has a little talent in her writing.
Lakisha Owens December 11, 1989
The Art of
Education
== 18
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» 9
(ye y ) s
-A
i ri
ME?
Question Ty
We, Meryl Meisler and the Drop Ins, did the Question
Marks. We took a lot of photographs to show people that
1.S. 291 was never built right and is all messed up and
dirty. We wrote short stories to go with the pictures. It
was a lot of fun doing the Question Marks. If it wasn’t
a KaR
for Ms. Meisler, we never would have had the chance to
question what was wrong with our school.
I, Lucy Gonzalez, am 5'7", chubby and light-skinned, with
in I.S. 291 for four years. I was left back because I failed
two major subjects—math and science— so I didn’t graduate. I am happy because I got Ms. Meisler again, three
yeafs straight. I love Ms. Meisler’s class because I learn
a lot of things with cameras and we take pictures.
Lucy Gonzalez November 27, 1989
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was the recipient of a 1989 New York Foundation for the Arts fellowship. Her a
work has recently been published in Aperture.
“Marilyn this looks just like a rág”
and threw it on the closet floor
Na oset
A
The Art of
Education
e A
' <
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: Viia x.
Carolien stikkor
Father and General, 1986, photograph.
Over the past few years we have watched many of the reputedly ‘‘progressive’” schools succumb to the pressure of
the back-to-basics movement. They now offer enriched white bread, but white bread just the same. The
“open classroom,” a catchall term for experimental and innovative education, is becoming known as the failure of the
overpermissive sixties. Many of the educational principles of discovery and respect are being lost. So four
years ago we opened a school to confront this trend. The following is a distillation of the process of creating
a responsive curriculum that emerges from the needs and interests of the school community.
Children are seekers, trying to make sense of the
world. In creating a curriculum, my most important task
is to engage their imagination. At the root of reading,
writing, math, and science is the imagination being applied to physical and spiritual experience. lf it seems
possible to make sense of the world, children will want
to become competent in the means of communication
by society.
So I outward
begin with
care aboutmeanp.
wi offered
paper deeply.
We work
fromwhat
whatthey
is internally
pen
ingful to the disciplines and tools of thought, expres-
Heresies 25
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Chanukah story, scouring the book for images. With
very little guidance they devised both the more universal symbols of Judaica (menorahs, stars of David, latkes) and their own idiosyncratic ones, such as “the
wife of a Maccabee.”
T'he students are also asked to use and interpret symbols. This may or may not include words. Recipes, for
instance, are written in a combination of words and
pictures. A series of craft books are available with sequenced picture instructions that the children translate into cars, boats, monsters, and castles. Familiar
signs are an opportunity to include print and enhance
their sense that they can learn to read. The children
are indeed using a much broader range of cues to interpret print, including color, shape, configuration, and
script. A very young reader soon learns to distinguish
STOP and EXIT signs, as well as A & P's, and most assuredly, McDonald's.
At Rosh Hashanah a visitor came to share some of
the meaning and ritual of the holiday. After | reassured
him that the children had become familiar with the
idea of human sacrifice during our study of the Aztecs,
he decided to tell them the story of Abraham and his
son. He emphasized that God was teaching the world
sion, and relationship. The curriculum evolves differently
each year based on shared passions, tragedies, and
routines.
that the taking of human life was not required as homage, and that at that time in history, animal sacrifice
was taking the place of human sacrifice. “Oh, that's
"m
LANGUAGE ARTS
It is hard to isolate a language arts program and assign it to a particular time of day, or to think of it as a
just like in ‘Snow White,
piped up one girl. There was
a puzzled pause.
“What do you mean?” he finally asked us.
“Well, the hunter kills a pig instead of Snow White
collection of rules regarding verb agreement and de-
and then takes its heart back to the queen,” answered
pendent versus independent clauses. Embedded
the girl. | was floored by her grasp of what was
among the rules of grammar and syntax is a deep struc-
significant in this story, and how it pertained to an-
ture of content. The meaning behind the form is what
other. This is no less than a fledgling study of compar-
we want to express for ourselves and communicate to
ative literature, the formal discipline in which plots and
others. Two-year-olds speak in this deep structure of
themes are compared and contrasted from one story
meaning—using nouns and verbs. Then they learn to
to the next.
elaborate and refine shades of meaning and finally to
Contrasts themselves can be instructive in a curric-
conform to formal standards of language, the surface
ulum where values are also the subject of analysis.
structure. At heart, language and its written represen-
This year we read a black American folk tale about
tation are symbols, which both express and shape
Flossie and the fox. Before long it became obvious to
thought.
us all that this was a variation of “Little Red Riding
By five, children can exercise symbolic thought in a
variety of ways. They are asked to create symbols to
represent their experience or understanding. Perhaps
Hood.” What was interesting to me, in my battle to find
ways to make children conscious of the sexism embedded in our culture, was the fact that in this story,
memories of a field trip or pictures to illustrate an oral
Flossie outwits the fox! She is clearly capable of taking
story will activate these symbols. Once the class made
care of herself: intervention on the part of a heroic wood-
lotto boards based on a fairly complex version of the
cutter was entirely unnecessary. Given the opportunity,
T Nao)
N
Education
N
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the children were able to describe this distinction and
fessed, “I remember pumpkin because | use an or-
thereby call it into consciousness.
ange pen.”
MATHEMATICS
Reading, like other language skills, begins with what
is made most meaningful to children. Because differ-
In math itis necessary to develop a deep tactile knowl-
ent kids think in different ways, we can offer and be
edge of mathematical principles. Using three-dimen-
aware of a variety of methods that will be more or
sional objects allows the children to handle the “stuff”
less appropriate for a given child. | primarily use a
of numbers. We group things and discover how they
method that reflects the holistic thinking of most five-
fall into patterns and hold certain properties in com-
year-olds, as opposed to the more analytical thought
mon. The recognition of patterns is a foundation not
required for, say, a phonics approach.
only of math but also of reading, language, science,
music, and movement. In linking these various mani-
I help them begin to read with key words: each word
festations of pattern and rhythm, we are again cultivat-
is chosen by a child for its personal significance. They
ing flexibility, which lies at the heart of creativity.
choose such words as 7yrannosaurus rex, pumpkin,
Math offers its own perspective on the world. There
ice skater, scuba diver, crystal. Among the key words
are numerical relationships in the repeating pattern of
there is hardly one word from the Dolch Word List of
a design, the symmetry of a snowflake, the rhythm of
words most common in the English language. In the
beginning they use a whole constellation of cues to
identify a word—its length, its initial letter, a mental
F
music, and the spiraling spines of a pine cone. These
F schoolmate
patterns, represented by claps and snaps, numbers,
140
and letters in the kindergarten, will become patterned
sequences of numbers. Still later it will be learned that
the sequences can be generated by formulas and represented graphically by rose curves and parabolas.
It is important first to engage the children’s imagination in the materials and create as many opportunities for discovery as possible. To allow the kids to involve themselves with the materials, | arrange a time
for free exploration of what are intended as the “math
manipulatives.”
Building blocks offer a physical knowledge of proportion, balance, geometry, and the relationship of
parts to wholes. On the table might be a basket of
smaller pattern blocks—diamonds, hexagons, triangles,
squares, and trapezoids proportionate to one another.
Though two-dimensional block designs are nearby, the
children are left to use the pieces as they choose. They
discover they can build on a flat surface or that the
pieces can be stood on edge to build towers of questionable stability.
Sometimes my role is to bite my tongue. For several
days the kids had been exploring how high they could
build their towers. My first impulse was to “expand their
knowledge” by blurting out that triangles make very
stable bases. I checked myself and asked if they could
find a more stable base. With that aim in mind, a plethora of new techniques evolved. Instead of using the
precarious narrow edge, the children began alternating “floors” and “walls” to create high rises, or stacking
the pieces horizontally on their broad sides, making for
sturdier but shorter zigzagging piles. In the end they
Carolien Stikker White Dress I, 1986, photograph.
N
Heresies 25
wW
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knowledge of the world. So we begin with their knowledge of the world, and cultivate the tools for analyzing
it through mathematics.
Measuring is a mathematical tool taught to the children early in the program. We use the length of feet and
hands as a standard measurement, creating a context
for discovering the need of a more objective standard.
We compare heights. We graph temperatures as a comparison of the lengths of the mercury measured each
day. We count down to find the days remaining until
Halloween; we count up to see how many people were
born in the year of the dog.
Graphing offers another way to organize information
and call attention to aspects that might otherwise be
overlooked. For instance, the pet chart quantified which
pets were most likely to be found in the home of a
kindergartener. At the same time the children shared
what animals were important to them. The discussion
surrounding the chart evolved into Pet Week, during
which we met many of the animals represented on the
graph. This math lesson also allowed us to be of comfort to a sad and subdued boy when his dog, now familiar to us all, died later in the year.
PHYSICAL SCIENCES
In the sciences | am again less concerned with imparting a specific body of knowledge than with helping
discovered a variety of aspects of height, balance, and
the children develop a way of thinking, namely what
we call scientific method. | introduce the elements of
stability.
There was a progression during the year from mis-
inquiry and testing and try to create situations that
cellaneous piles to designs and entire scenes that took
challenge the children’s newly forming ideas about
into account the geometric properties of and relation-
cause and effect. What is a reasonable test? What do
ships among pieces. One girl envisioned an entire fair,
combining flat and three-dimensional constructions to
we accept as proof?
The day we tackled melting, I asked the five-year-olds
fashion a haunted house and a pleasantly abstract
to predict what they thought might melt. Prediction cre-
merry-go-round. Certain days inspired outdoor scenes,
ated the opportunity for dissonance. Predicting required
with a tray as backdrop for flowers growing amid grass
them to accommodate what they thought would hap-
and butterflies. Once they’d fully explored the possibil-
pen to what did happen and to ponder why this was
ities and had a working knowledge of the pieces, I found
so. We tried ice, butter, crayons, wax, and cinnamon.
I could limit or refine what they did in order to enhance
Questions and opportunities for predictions arose along
their explorations, and they accepted my suggestions
the way. Which will melt faster? Why? Which will solid-
willingly.
ify away from the heat? Which will stay melted? What
Math has its own symbolic language. We must allow
the kids to become conversant with mathematical principles, draw them, and then write them, using the
other changes occurred as well? This excited further
curiosity, experimentation, and observation.
Most gratifying is the evidence that the methodology
“alphabet” of mathematical sentencing and graphing.
has been internalized and can be applied spontane-
Mathematics compares, quantifies, and orders our
ously. Suddenly the rice and bean table, a fixture in the
The Art of
Education
— 24
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room all year, became the basis for experiments. “I
to, well, a life-style of their own choosing. The children
want to add water to some rice and beans and see
have been slow to grant this at times.
what happens.” This girl’s enthusiasm spread until sev-
Another example is the magic wand. One little girl
eral children had cups of rice, beans, and water. The
brought in a blue plastic “magic wand,” which she in-
diversity of their observations made for a rich overall
vested with the power to make wishes, both good and
picture. One child noted what floated and what sank,
bad, come true. Her classmates seemed to accept this.
another observed that the skins of the beans eventu-
An otherworldliness crept into her voice whenever she
ally lifted and peeled. The first girl paid attention to the
spoke of the wand. Several days later at rest time she
changes in the color and odor of the water. By the next
left the room briefly. In her absence the others began
morning we all found out that the combination creates
to question her verity.
molds if left overnight! In science the idea of mistakes
“It’s not rea//y a magic wand.”
is most easily eradicated because it is the so-called
“I know, but she won't listen.”
mistakes that teach us so much. The kids accept and
“It came with a My Little Pony!”
view them positively as experiments, not errors.
When she returned to the room they felt it their responsibility to confront her with Reality. She held firm,
SOCIAL SCIENCES
and it was then | intervened. | neither upheld nor denied the magic of the wand. That was not the point. |
Perhaps the area | find most compelling is the social
did affirm her right to believe. She did not have to prove
sciences. Development is indicated by growth in em-
her faith to them, nor did they need to disprove her to
pathy, respect, historical knowledge, and refined judg-
justify their own beliefs. | trust that she will not always
ment. Children at this age are increasingly able to put
invest blue plastic with superhuman power, but I don't
themselves in another's shoes and must be challenged
want to inhibit the part of her that believes in a spiritu-
to do so. Empathy and concern must be valued within
ality beyond the physical. And I want all the children
the fiber of the classroom. Animals and insects have
played a major role in the kindergarten. Much of our
ofkeacher
discussion has circled around their dignity and rights
to be able to trust their own judgment and not feel
threatened by the existence of other beliefs. This is her
seed of faith, and as in many new religions, spiritual
strength is ascribed to an icon. It may not seem that a
My Little Pony wand has a lot of social relevance, but it
is just such small yet significant events that can reflect
values and reveal issues basic to human experience.
Another issue that came up was the concept of war.
The group was typically polarized, boys versus girls,
until they were forced to contend with a common foe
—the first/second graders. Among themselves they
began to refer to this class as the Rats, implementing a time-tested method to dehumanize the enemy.
I applauded their cooperation with one another. But
I sadly recognized that, as is so typical with humans, it
was borne of the desire to be against someone or
something else. Did they know what I was talking about?
There were several nods. I pointed out that they would
be living with those kids for perhaps five or six more
years, and we could not afford to be at war with them.
We briefly discussed the upcoming summit between
world leaders and decided it was time for a treaty of
our own. We wrote a lit of grievances, a plea to “stop
the warring,” and a suggested resolution. It was signed
by all and sent to the first/second grade. This impressed
the first/second grade, and they took up the concerns
of the kindergarteners seriously. They came up with
Heresies 25
mi
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their own list of rules for outside. Then we came together to exchange treaties and song. It was no cureall; there are still problems of intimidation. But it was
an important process in the search for alternatives in
I know these children will be introduced to much of
the mainstream through TV, books, and commercialization. So | tend to focus on the forgotten, omitted,
and intentionally distorted histories of our planet.
dealing with conflict.
It distresses me that we withhold or even lie to children in the name of protecting them from the “real
world.” People often create an aura of innocence around
We spent most of November confronting the stereotype of the wild Indian. By Thanksgiving | was pleased
with how much they'd absorbed when they told the
children and believe the preservation of this innocence
story back to me. But because these stories are some-
will rid the world of its ills. But there is nothing more
times in such conflict with what they've been led to
disillusioning than to discover that the fairy-tale world
we've encouraged them to construct exists nowhere.
We should protect children with honest information and
by installing hope and faith in their ability to act and
change their world. And there is no preservation of
innocence; our culture—good and bad—is too embedded in a child’s every experience. If we don't provide explanations and cultivate awareness, we are
condemning them to perpetuate both the virtues and
the evils of our history.
believe, even at five, they must be introduced and repeated in numerous ways. When a Native American
woman from the Speaker's Bureau came in January,
they were again doing a reality check. In one of their
thank-you's, a boy asked her, “Did the white people
really steal all the land from the Indians?”
I do not mean to destroy their love for their homeland. It was hard to accept that the army had traded
smallpox-infected blankets to a tribe with the intention
that they would all get sick and die. One boy commented, “Yeah, but they only did that once, right?” They
so want to believe in their country, and they should. To
me, patriotism requires looking honestly at our actions
and condemning those acts that threaten our nation's
professed ideals. We also fortify the children by studying the tradition of resistance, not the injustices alone.
We learn how this resistance was embodied in the lives
of Harriet Tubman, Susan B. Anthony, Martin Luther
King, Jr., and Malcolm X.
Finally, I am asking the five-year-olds to make a judgment on the basis of empathy, respect, and fact. I can't
deny my influence, that of their parents, the toy manufactures, and the media. However, we must provide
opportunities for the kids themselves to exercise their
ability to assess what is fair, what is right.
These ideas may be old, but I am saying them again.
Revisionist educators would have us return to the methods and mythology of the “idyllic” one-room schoolhouse, the drilling of basic skills through rote recitation.
They would have us believe that a highly structured,
3-R's program is sufficient to meet the complexities of
the lives of today’s children. | beg to differ. It does not
equip a child emotionally or cognitively; it does not respect the child. Though the structure appropriate for a
given child will vary, it must not be adjusted at the expense of creativity, discovery, and dignity. X
Gail Draper is currently teaching kindergarten in Los Angeles
at the Oaks School, a private progressive school she helped found
four years ago.
The Art of
Education
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JWL PIERCE
And I yelled
l am using the right film
So don't give me your goddamn attitude M
l am tired of being angry
I said
And don't tell me I am doing it the wrong way y
because it's true
I get consumed with anger and cannot work
because it takes me over
and I didt come to this fucking school
' <
And I said to the man at the photo store
I would like to take a look at that Bolex—how much does it cost?
And he said $200 ,
And I said p
That is an incredibly low price for a Bolex
ging this place and not get any of my
pend
I would like to shoot a roll and get it developed to see if there is
anything wrong with the camera
And I went back the next week with my film P
to shoot a roll
And he said
That's not a 16mm camera, honey < 4 s
that's a super-8 camera
We have got to keep fighting
And I said to them À
the Women's Film/Photo/Video Collective
27
is not a place for people to come and
expect help because they don't know what they are doing
itis a place for women to feel like they are not crazy because
they come into this goddamn building and immediately have to leave
because the air is so thick with hostility
that you can't breathe
and I am tired of feeling like a crazy person
come and take a look at it?
because no one will answer my questions and
I begin to feel invisible
And I vowed to carry hedging shears with me every time I went into the
film building
and she said b
“Bitches rule:"
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Ilove you too, Mom. Diane : That's a lot of love.
I love trees. I love all I didn't know you had
the trees in the world. that much love in you.
Lilly: Ya, for real. Lilly: Mom, I fellin love Diane : You did? Did you fall
I do, for real. with John. in love with me?
I love you, but I didn t
fall in love with you.
But, know what? ...
I fell in love with Dad.
1n N (o)
Setif
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was a twenty-year-old black girl. It
blonde hair and blue eyes. She smiled
heard the entire question. I knew I was
was spring in New York City. I had
and said, “Come in. You're just in time.”
in trouble. My mind began to flash news-
traveled by bus from southern Vir-
There were several rooms. Leading me
paper headlines. I racked my brain trying
ginia. The colors were grey—the sky, the
into one of them she said, “Make your-
to piece together a coherent stream of
buildings, the sidewalks, the trees. It was
self comfortable,” then left and returned
ideas. None would come. Despite pa-
Sunday morning. Only a few people
with a guy who was also about my age.
tient smiles, their eyes told me my per-
were on the streets. I hoped I wouldn't
She told me his name and said they
formance was disappointing. Their reali-
get lost. My knuckles and jaws were
would interview me together for the in-
ty was not mine. I could not debate or
tight.
ternational college student program.
discuss it. We clumsily made a few more
Their smiles did nothing to allay my fear
nonconnecting exchanges before I went
I knocked on a door inside a small
but well-kept midtown hotel. A young
woman not much older than me peeped
out. Thin and plain-looking, she had
or my nervous stomach.
“What is your opinion on AmericanRussian policy—?” they began. I never
29
back to the streets of Manhattan.
Anger and disappointment welled up.
I walked in a daze. I had traveled ten
Heresies 25
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hours to get there. In five minutes I
looked forward to attending elementary
pictures of Booker T. Washington and
learned what I had suspected all my life:
school, but what I found was incredibly
George Washington Carver were brought
boring. At age six I knew that the teacher,
who was black, did not care about most
proud, but we either fell asleep or tuned
not “the world.” I felt my first great
of'us. I can’t remember her ever show-
out.
doubt about why I was studying so hard.
ing delight in anything I did. So much
Elementary school had additional pit-
If all that diligence was not going to pay
had to do with just sitting there, just
falls. Fights often began on the play-
off, why do it? Feeling alone with the
serving time.
ground and on the way home from
humiliation and shame of that experi-
Our first “lesson” was to sit down and
school. I now see that those fights were
ence, I felt a new kind of fear and anxi-
be quiet. Our second lesson was to
ety begin to take root. I was terrified that
memorize the pledge of'allegiance to the
dignation, frustration, rage, and despair.
each succeeding encounter would reveal
flag. We did not understand what any of
I was glad I was not the teacher's pet,
more of'my vast ignorance of the white
the words meant. Being taught to per-
though none ofus really escaped. As victims ofinvalidation we acted out our dis-
man’s world. This is a story about how
form like trained dogs, we were given
I was trained to take my American Negro
stars and A’s when we were good; if we
female place.
could not perform, we were ridiculed
“safe” place we had; in the schoolyard,
and punished. When the teacher’s pun-
we practiced turning on ourselves and
e lived in a state that was ra-
ishment did not work, our parents were
tress patterns on one another in the only
our schoolmates. The seeds of internal-
cially segregated by law. My
called in. We were learning to behave,
ized racism sprouted as we learned to
parents, grandparents, aunts,
not to question or to think.
hate, fear, and mistrust one another.
and uncles often spoke quietly about
When it was time to go to junior high
events. They were afraid something aw-
ost of what I was taught in
school, I rode on a school bus past neat
ful would happen to us kids even before
school seemed foreign to
and well-equipped white schools to a
we grew up. As a young black child, be-
my life at home. Learning to
small, dilapidated black school. My
fore I could even think, I was told how
read from the Dick-and-Jane readers I
older brothers had been sent away to a
bad things are out there in the world,
thought, This must be how white children
better school. I felt my parents did not
how there’s no place for us, how people
play. These standard American public
care much about my education because
don’t like us.
school readers were published from 1935
I was a girl. I didn’t like going there at
Speaking my mind could get me killed.
to 1965. They presented the American
all, and although we never spoke of it,
My own thoughts and feelings were sec-.
family as well-to-do, northern European
the other black kids didn’t like it either.
ondary. My questions, curiosity, and en-
Caucasian Christians leading trouble-free
The bus trips were often tense and un-
thusiasm had to be bridled. Learning
lives. Along with the mythical ideals of
ruly. We knew ours was the worst school
this would help me survive. I was often
owning-class European culture, the mes-
in the county. During the ride, a handful
told: “Shut up!”; “Who asked you your
sage I got from my black teachers was
of kids dominated the rest of us by
opinion?”; “Who said so?”; “You don’t
that something was wrong with us if we
playing “the dozens”— talking about ev-
know what you’re talking about!’”;
were too different: skin too dark, hair
erybody’s mother in a negative way and
“Mind your own business!”
too short or too kinky, dress too color-
putting one another down. This was part
They felt that the sooner I learned to
speak only when spoken to and to say
— 30
out. This was supposed to make us feel
that my education had prepared me to
live only in an American “Negro world,”
ful, talk too loud.
I learned to be ashamed of'who I was.
of learning how to survive. If you could
not doit, you had to fight or silently with-
no more than I had to, the better it was
Slowly and laboriously we read each
stand humilation. You also learned to hide
going to be for me. It was a fear, a si-
word in Little Black Sambo, a book still
your feelings by being “cool” or to disguise
lence put into me—and most black
being published today. Even though we
them by being “tough.”
kids—to prepare us, to toughen us up
were six and seven years old, we knew
for the real world like soldiers for war. I
the story made fun of'us in a cruel and
urged us to study. Most of'us felt it wasn’t
learned to respond with words that had
demeaning way. Is this supposed to be
going to make a difference in our lives.
double meanings and with a rhythm and
some kind of joke? I thought as I exam-
We had learned that our way of talking,
pace that could change or modify any
ined the teacher'’s face to get a clue. I
which expressed our experiences, was
message I was trying to get across.
could see she was seriously trying to
not a legitimate language, that our way
Yet my parents had hopes that adulthood would be better for us than it had
teach us to read.
In fourth, fifth, and sixth-grade history
Inside the classroom the teachers
of singing and playing music was not a
legitimate musical expression, and that
been for them. I was sent to kindergar-
and geography classes, we learned about
our way of being in the world was seen
ten at age five. The teacher, a friend of
the bravery of American whites and
as uncouth. We saw how our people
my parents, made learning and school
about European imperialism, slavery, and
had to behave and talk differently “out
seem like a lot of fun. Because of that I
the “dark continent.” One week a year,
there,” to “smile and shuffle” in order to
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“get over.” We did not know the smiles
ing in a white woman’s kitchen. She was
enroll their children in white schools
were meant to hide the fear.
a domestic worker and dreaded this pos-
but were turned away. Almost overnight,
sibility. However, I had to be very care-
however, our rundown school was paint-
ful to try not'to be too smart. It was just
ed. A gymnasium, auditorium, cafete-
hose of us who showed ability
one more’thing to isolate me further
ria, and chemistry lab were added, and
coupled with willingness to pay
from the other students. Being from a
a new principal with a crew of young
attention were pushed by our
poor family, I could not afford the new
black teachers brought in. Students who
teachers. They preached that we owed
clothes, junk jewelry, and junk food
could not see the handwriting on the
it to our race to prepare ourselves to go
most of the students felt were impor-
wall were suspended from school, most
to college. They guided us into courses
tant. They were trying to have fun now:
of them never to return.
that would prepare us for technical jobs
life after high school seemed hard for
in fields with worker shortages. It was a
black people, an end to the freedom we
test of memory, of concentration, and
enjoyed at the moment.
Every few months we were tested, and
our test scores were published and discussed by everyone. The county board
of willingness to study and repeat the
At the same time, I learned from my
of education said it showed we would
ideas from the textbooks and teachers
father that being a black female was more
never survive in white schools and that
without debate or discussion. To them
it did not matter what we might want to
problematic than being a black male. I
longed to grow up and be on my own.
we were better off where we were. But
our parents knew our separate facilities
do. We were told they knew what was
Before that was to happen, the 1954
were not equal and would not give up
best for us.
Brown v. Board of Education Supreme
their efforts.
It wasn’t easy to decide to be a good
Court ruling that “separate but equal”
When black kids integrated the white
student, but my mother always threat-
schools were unconstitutional was to
schools, black parents and teachers told
ened that ifI didn’t study and get a schol-
change our lives and test us even more.
us we would have to work really hard to
arship to college, I would end up work-
Some black parents immediately tried to
prove ourselves. The white teachers
Heresies 25
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Sa AA A A A A ML MO A I I Ve JE OI WN TA TE TT Sf WT I PT EN I
Kristin Reed Predominant Ideology, 1988, krylon, xerox, gouache, chalk, 12X14".
Kristin Reed t4 a patnter, muralist, and graphic artist (tving and working tin NYC.
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didn’t say anything to us or about us;
sources of strength. Those of us who
it seemed nothing was good enough
couldn't make the shift fast enough failed
for them. When we did something we
a number of times, but those who kept
my efforts to hide behind the facade of
thought was better, they tried to act as
trying became almost unstoppable.
an educated person did a lot of damage
though it hadn’t happened. We quickly
self through the eyes of people who are
different from you. I hadn’t realized that
to the young black girl I was. When peo-
arrived at an understanding of the fact
that there was no room for us inside
white schools. Our blackness—the thing
y first college was a black
ple refuse to see you, who you are be-
school in southern Virginia.
gins to slip away and you start to feel
I got a scholarship to major
you don"t exist. I find that trying to ex-
that had always made us so visible—now
in the sciences but yearned to be a stu-
made us disappear.
dent in the art department. I had diffi-
causes tremendous conflict, not only
But our parents were determined that
press my real voice in my work often
culty appreciating the administration’s
within other people’s expectations, but
we would stay. To them, abuse was just
efforts to “civilize” us. Gloves, dresses,
within myself as well.
taken for granted. They would tell us that
and hats were a Sunday requirement. We
if we got the same training as white stu-
even had lessons in how to behave at an
dents and worked twice as hard, the
afternoon tea. We were required to at-
ble silence of isolation forces
world would see our talents and oppor-
tend ballet and classical music perfor-
me to continue to try to con-
espite the difficulties, the terri-
Tomie Arai
tunities would open up.
However, our white classmates picked
up our white teachers’ cues. They tried
not to see what was going on. As our
isolation mounted, we could not name
mances given by white groups brought
nect with others. Sometimes white peo-
in from elsewhere. Only slowly did this
ple say to me, “You must be very excep-
school become a little more relaxed.
Years later in art school I painted my
tional!” I have learned this is a way of
rationalizing that somehow I must not
white models red, blue, or green. Usu-
really be black. I know this is no accep-
what was happening to us, but we knew
ally my white instructors said nothing,
tance at all. When I try to point this out,
howit felt. When we tried to speak ofit,
but occasionally one would say, “That’s
the response is usually, “What are you
we were asked, “What are you talking
not the way you do it!”—meaning that
talking about?” There we go making
about?” and by our silence we hid our
was not the way to make art. But for
nonconnecting exchanges again. This
anger at the distortion of our identity and
me, art had to express how I saw, felt,
time I know it is not caused by some
the exclusion of our reality. We didn’t
and thought.
realize it at the time, but in order to
failing on my part. x
It was only much later that I began to
Clarissa T. Sligh, national coordinator of Coast
cope, we searched for new ways of being
understand what it meant to grow up in
to Coast: Women of Color Artists’ Projects, is an
in the world, began to draw on new
a culture where you learn to see your-
artist living in New York City.
Heresies 25
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Welcome to You See
which is “normal.” I became an
English teacher born with rabies and
a red pen. Freud looked away from
CAROL FEISER LAQUE
Trench mind, trench mouth manipulation
to win at all costs. I say I must
be a chairman because | am a
Oedipus and wrote the Ode to Pussy Wrecks
hermaphrodite—all that any man could
Complex without tearing out Jocasta's
destroy. No one can touch me or
Antigones or me the Sphinx.
Major Medical who has four stars
Welcome to Xerox University.
The highest degree | ever attained
will call the Boys at Affirmative
Lie down on the glass plate
at You See is 104. I got a
Action. Twenty-five committees will
and magically the Phallic bar
Doctorate and passed the test
of light comes over and under
for my Poetic License. I've always
Destiny, Psycho-affective, Dangling
you, passing through your mind
been driven. My life is never in
Modifiers of my genitalia, and
like Star Whores. Pay your
danger from free speech at a
I will demand the same xenophobia
tuition and duplicate the Phallic
fascist, totalitarian, appropriate
extended to all women, Jewish people,
bar of light, so one thousand good
University because of my Religion.
Blacks, Migrant workers, Mormons, Seventh
or reimbursement which is being
Shield. I chose it because it
Aluminum Siding As Concrete Art, etc.
Xeroxed into a Diploma, symbolizing
matches my eyes. 104 is also
that learning and the key to success
the IQ necessary to be Xeroxed
is being Xeroxed and duplicated
into a Doctorate. You also
replications becomes your tuition
be established concerning the Manifest
Day Adventists, used-car salespersons,
The Sayings of Chairman Meow
illustrates that if you are a tomcat
you spray your way to success, marking
precisely as liberally and as artistically
have to trade your humanity
as the reductions or enlargements of the
for a license to be a rabies
Path of logic to pathology. If you
blankness of a piece of white paper.
babies hunting madly for
are anything else, you let the Yellow
If you're a white woman the
someone to bite. You see?
bar of light passes over you
Or you Nazi? If you can
turn viscous—homocidal because
territory like follow the Yellow Brick
Brick Wall of man's inhumanity to man
afford to go to a prestigious
the stakes of academe are so small—and
no big deal. A man, however, faces
university east, south, west,
destroy feeling for the sake of
one large bump, his greatest
or north of here, you will be
power, disintegrity. Since l's a
Psycho-Sexual crisis, and he is
Xeroxed and enlarged and embossed
hermaphrodite (also spelled Herm Aphro
Xeroxed, but becomes a god in
at the same time. And your
bumping twice over your breasts—
Dike) nobody harms Me for fear
the process. In this case a
genitally correct organs will be bronzed—
l'Il take my pants down and show
Phallus is Xeroxed into Erectus—
just as language the only organ
them everything they are not but who
outside the body will be stainless
the freaks really are in life.
a phallusy (see). But that
phallacy is em Bossed with Power
steal, polysyllabic, and exclusionary.
It's called mooning—both sides
Politics, indicating whoever will rise
As an English teacher born with
of all four phases. I am
to the top will be a Psychopath of the
rabies and a red pen, |
a radical feminist, so I recognize
Old Boys' School, putting cream that
will teach all students from
women can be terrorists too. |
rises to the top in your coffee from the
The Bible of Truth and Scholarship
believe in excellent teaching, publications,
creamatorium in your always erect
which no one comprehends and which
mind. There is no Phallus for all of
is voted and amended by consensus
alike. I'm a hermaphrodite out
us Interruptus. I'm an English teacher,
morality, consensus reality, consensus
for all the gentle men and women
so I was born with rabies and a
justice, consensus prejudice, consinsus
humanity for all students and faculty
body spirits—look at my
red pen in my first. I came out
pathology, which will be voted on
body, hear my words, and
totally Red at birth and turned to
weekly by the majority of psychopaths
shudder in terror at who
who rule. The book I am writing
we label freak and why.
Major Medical; she has four stars.
blue because my obstetrician was
is called The Sayings of Chairman
l am not alone as |
His Storians now call themselves
Meow. I call my self chair
am the Sphinx, a stone poem:
Psycho (tick, tock) His Storians,
man because to stay in power I will
meow. One word says
Psychotic His Storians will control
lie, cheat, steal, play both sides against
everything. I have more than Nine Lives
the Truth. Just like Freud, I am
the middle, speak so nobody understands
because I am desert and ocean
unafreud and jung again like
me and call them stupid, be vicious
the Psychology Department. They teach
only behind backs, be nodding and smiling
alive on fire. The decision
Abnormal and Child Psychology which
all the time performing in the best tradition
to be humane is made every
is why they act like abnormal children
under the milkyway—I am
day of your life.
Nao)
Education
= 34.
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35
LEARN TO EARN'
Pamela Wye Learn to Earn, 1988, pen and ink.
Pamela Wye ta a New York City artist and writer. She moat recently exhibited drawinga in a group exhibition at Emily Sorkin Gallery and writea for ARTS magazine.
Heresies 25
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“I was actually born in Sausalito,” the Kid says. “In
66, on a houseboat. My dad was an artist, called him-
name. He used to go to Volunteers of America and
Goodwill and the Sally Army and get this great stuff
and stick it all together and display it on the beaches.
My mom left him when I was three. She took me,
my older sister, the orange cat, and a vase of peacock
feathers which somebody later told her were bad
luck.”
He pauses. He’s got a paisley bandanna tied
round his wrist and a silver feather hanging from his
ear. He’s stopped me in the hall even though classes
don't start till next week, and I am clearly impatient.
He fiddles with the bandanna and studies my face
with his gray-green eyes. You can’t help but notice
him. The eyes and something prematurely ironic in
his face, they draw you.
o
“Write it down,” I say. He bows and leaves.
H- there the next week. On time. Holding his
printout as though it were a ticket to something magical, something more filled with possibility than I
know this seminar to be. Creative Writing 1. All over
A
the country someone like me is sitting down with
someone like him, one of'us filled with resignation,
the other filled with what must feel like a beginning.
His classmates straggle in. They must have heard
about me. Most of them are on time. And they are
Ci.
looking sharp: B.R. and Esprit and L.A. Kicks and
denim jackets that somebody has washed in a vat of
stones. I can’t quite figure out why the Kid is the
only one with dark hair when the class list holds a
Ramirez and a Yazzie.
They are about to be surprised. They are about to
discover that I don’t have an opinion on the governor and Martin Luther King, that I don’t give a damn
if they saw The Color Purple, and that though my son
is named Bobby and my daughter Angela, I am resigned to living in a decade when the original of the
aforementioned Bobby has been featured in an article in the New York Times Business Section on barbecue magnates. Indeed, I let my hair do its do, and
yes, my butt is big and I refuse to give up dashikis
because they make little of what's big. They are going
to discover that they will call me Ms. and that I am
not particularly eager for them to know my first
Painter, printmaker, and sculptor Nancy Wells has been
seriously involved in making art for the last thirty years. She is
currently teaching teachers to teach art at the School of Visual
Arts and also teaches printmaking at the Bob Blackburn
Printmaking Workshop. She lives and works in Jersey City and
New York City.
Nancy Wells
e. u
o
R & =>
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i ,
`
name, much less use it. It’s all going to be less pre-
the Akita they have named Patrice. They do look
dictable than they might have guessed coming
good. All of them. She reminds me it’s different now.
through that door for the first time—if, in fact, they
When I visit, she takes me to wonderful restaurants `Y
bothered to guess at all.
where they serve black-eyed peas garnished with ci-
The Kid gives me a funny look. “Are you alright?”
lantro and spoonbread hot with chiles. She laughs
he asks, and I safely tuck him away in my E-Z file:
when she tells me that Eldridge has designed a line
this kid is Pure California. Mom’s assertive. There are
of men’s pants.
books lying around the house, which has huge win-
“You will.write,” I say, “for next class on the theme
dows, the windows hung with little stained-glass
of your summer vacation.” The redhead looks wor-
symbols of things hopeful, things mystical, things
ried. Bored writes my words, maybe, down in his
" preached about in the Unitarian Church Mom surely
Life Plan. The Kid laughs.
gm attends. The books have titles that indicate that
“Alright,” he says. “Allllllllright!” s
men do not much like women but that women
I realize that in the excitement I have forgotten to `p g
can do many things about that. The Kid and Mom
take attendance, so I do. The redhead’s name is Rain. : Bored is Toby. The Kid wont tell us his first name. y
were somewhere special on those summer days .
when something was supposed to harmonize or
Must run in the family, that hip coyness. All the print- 9 €
converge.
out says is “Saturn, N.” In addition to these three, .
“I am fine,” I say to all of them and smile my smile
there are two Jennifers, one of whom is dressed from s
that I have learned to do, the one that involves only
>
the lower half of the face, the smile that is cliché
barrette to ankle boots, in sherbet yellow. There are
4
Corey and Chris, Lupe and a Farrah Fawcett look-
and judgment in itself. “And I am Ms. Green and
alike named Debby Yazzie. Steve and Rick and Jon
this is Creative Writing 1, and it is my hope that
and Randy all have perfect haircuts and wear jams in A
we will surprise each other before the end of the
terrible colors. There are two no-shows. I encourage
semester.”
those present to leave early. The Kid hesitates at the Ay
A skinny redhead to the Kid's left raises her hand.
door, checks out the set of my shoulders, and leaves.
I’m afraid she has managed to mismanage her frizzy
hair into dreadlocks. She has even wrapped four lit-
N ext class, the two no-shows show. They've even
p| tle braids with colored yarn. It must have required
done the assignment. One of the no-shows, a tiny
the kind of stoned concentration that only a dedi-
woman in a very large shirt, develops an immediate
cated follower of Jah could sustain. She is wearing a
and obvious case of something for Toby and spends
tie-dyed T-shirt with a skull silk-screened across the
the entire class carefully ignoring him. He is busy
with his Life Plan and a calculator. I read them an
bosom. I can’t bring myself to check her feet, to see
if she’s wearing those thick German sandals that make
early story by Doris Lessing and when I call on him,
everybody’s feet ug-ly. I nod.
he gives me a gorgeous warm smile and says he’s
“Will we read some Third World writers?” she asks.
sorry but he drifted off for a minute.
The silvery-blond young man who’s just come in
The other no-show is dressed all in beige: cotton
the door glances at her, glances at me, smiles care-
shirt and sweater and pants and shoes that have an
` fully, and settles into the desk in the farthest corner
unusual, in my view, number of flaps and snaps and
" of the room. He’s already bored. I can tell because
loops. He himself is also in beige: hair, skin, eyes,
"he pulls out one of those hundred-dollar Daily Life
. eyelashes, even the fine fuzz on his arms. The Kid
Plan books and begins leafing through. The Kid is
stares at him. Those orbs of his, they seem to eat up
everything—hungry, shining, long-lashed, gray-green
_ watching me intently.
“I don’t care what you read,” I say. “I care what
holes in space. He’s got a funny almost-sweet smile,
you write.” She blushes, the pink washing up be-
like he can’t quite believe what he seems to see.
hind her freckles. I pull the first class assignment out
My Angela comes to mind. I remember shopping
with her in Tucson. We’d stuffed ourselves on tama-
of my old briefcase. Angela, my daughter, wishes I
would get rid ofit, the briefcase. She says it’s ostenta-
>
les and were walking in that big airy mall. She
tiously po’ folks. She wishes I would getmy hair cut
_ and buy some new clothes and realize that the old
_ days are nothing but old She’s living in D.C. with
her husband. He’s going to Howard. She sends the |
pictures of the two of them, of their townhouse, of
plunked down on a bench near the fountains and s s
started people-watching. That’s her favorite pastime "|
next to talking trash about what she watches. She . — »
shakes her head as they parade by, the young ladies
v
in aerobics gear, the poor souls in Bermuda shorts, ,
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the college kids who appear to have been computerdrawn and die-cut.
used to brew up to spread on his bony old chest
bench, eyelids drooping, every muscle in her body
è she knew that milk and sugar would make you sleep
when he had the catarrh. I’ve got a big mug of milk
and molasses. She knew that, too. Long before the
scientists and the ladies’ magazines started telling us,
good. A little rum doesn’t hurt. That’s my discovery.
“I’ve got to get me one of those big old gourmet
Milk and molasses for sleep. Rum for the emptiness.
chocolate chip cookies just to stand this mess.” That’s
“Make you sleep good...” Angela says I’m trying
how we are, my child and her mother. Cookies. So-
: to talk down home when I say stuff like that. She’s
never forgiven me for growing up in Evanston, for
ship, of love.
her grandpa being a dentist, for me having no trou-
The Kid taps the beige one on the arm and smiles.
ble getting into a good school, earning a good de-
“David Byrne, I presume?” he asks.
NVs
,
- gree, getting a mediocre job. She keeps wanting to
know about her roots, the real ones. Milk and mo-
“No,” the beige one says nicely. “My name is Mark.
I think you've mistaken me for someone else.”
lasses. Some hymns. Greens and ham hocks with lots
The room has gotten awfully quiet, so I run on for
of black pepper. Remembering my mama’s church
a while about Lessing and how she can make you
clothes, the print dresses, the fine sharp hats, the
feel a place and how they might want to think about
white gloves, the brooch, not gaudy, but real gold
. shining against her shoulder, I tell her about that.
Y B
a A
` And me, that too, standing politely outside the dime
`
treasure in their memory.
store on Fifty-third Street on an August day, that Chi-
“Does it have to be real?” Rain asks.
cago stockyards soot hanging in the wet air, me
dressed in a tasteful skirt and blouse, staying calm,
The Kid is studying me again. I start to move down
the aisle to pick up their work. Rain has woven some
keeping my eyes carefully focused over the custom-
feathers into her braids. She touches them nervously
: ers’ shoulders while they read my sign, while they
as I approach her seat.
walk away or shake my hand or spit at my feet. It
“I’m sorry,” she says in her high little voice. “That
worked. A year later, anybody could buy a bad ham-
was a dumb question. I didn’t think. Really. I'm
burger anytime in an Atlanta lunch counter.
Rain’s handwritten sheets are on the top of
bummed.” She starts to hand me her paper and
ducks her head.
- the pile. She has gone to every Grateful Dead con~ cert in the Southwest in the summer of ’87 and
“If you can make me want to be there, honey,” I
. she wants me to know of the righteous, the totalsignment into the pile in my hand. It’s on nötebook
- ly unbogus vibes of those concerts. She wants me
paper. The child has handwritten it. She has dotted
to know that there are people at those concerts
her i’s with little circles.
who are almost old, there are men with gray braids,
there are Black people and Chicanos. The Dead
let anybody make tapes off their soundboards.
` Twice there were rainbows. Once, at Red Rocks,
surface of the old roll-top desk that takes up most of
it rained right at a part in the song where it talks
the living-dining room. It had been my grandpa’s
F2
s Í,
{ about rain. The Dead want one world...hey, a con-
desk. Some of the cubbyholes still smell like his old
B cert is one world...that’s what they want, like Bob
-
-: Ly
ANU
= Y-
PY
=A
YO v-
ae
4 MAT A M
-
948
A Ut
I LI,
F
p
z š
AN
<
WAO KNOWS HE KNOWS...
BPN —
Nancy Wells
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LAs
o
Marley, Peter Tosh, like all those dudes. Jah!
male hustler or a French sailor or a Manhattan litter (
I add a little more rum to the milk. I don’t want to
-4 box. The word “spike” appears frequently and I can’t å
w tell if it’s slang for syringe or an inadequate male `
grade these things. I correct all the spelling errors.
She’s got the hard ones right, like Rastafarian and
organ. He’s poured ink on some of the sections and L
1 : Y labeled $ the
blotch “random censor.”
Ethiopia and synchronicity. It’s the small words, the
ordinary ones she can't handle. [I start to play with
F -< -< I find myself saying “Have mercy” out loud and {
the punctuation and lose heart. My children’s father,
invoking with the last sip of warm milk, now fumey
Leon, my ex-husband, he had teased me, then nagged
me, and finally gotten so he’d just slip out of the
$ ™ the Kid. with
“See me
I write,ghost
and go
rum,soon,”
the puzzled
of to
my bed.
grandma. I fail /
room when he found me muttering over their poor
papers. It was only one of the ways we had not been
They are puzzled, surprised, disappointed. I
able to keep it—what, keep it kind? I still think of
know how they feel. Writing what have been de-
him nights like this, because at least when I was done,
scribed as “elegant, somewhat detached” essays, I
he had been in there, asleep, his fine-boned body
/
more often than not open an envelope and let a re- {
warming the bed. Uh-uh! I will not give in to that
eut
drop
out
my grandpa’s
now slip
and then
I sit
withonto
my sleeping
potion and desk.
let it And *
Toby has written a cool, tight, tense, polished
rest on my tongue and, even sweeter, let the printed
chrome and enamel, nasty little jewel on Europe on
Page I hold in my hands rest in my mind. “June Jor- _
two hundred dollars a day. He hasn't missed a trick,
S dan Plain Talking” by Antoinette Green. I sleep the
in his travels, in his style. I give him an A-. It'll drive
him crazy. Debby Yazzie starts off slow, then gets me
good sleep of the worker on those nights. So when
3
right there, on her grandma’s ranch, in the dust and
the wind and the mutton broiling on the wood-fire
of it. She’s got a problem with paragraphs—some-
they glance at the last page of their papers and let
their eyes rest briefly on my face, with pleasure, with
7
petulance, I know how it is.
S-
Later they come to my office, that small room with
body taught her to put exactly four sentences in each
no window, that neat room without posters, with-
one—but she gets me to smell the juniper, the dust,
out clues. I sit in the straight-backed library chair and
the rank fat perfume of the mutton. I clean up the
I listen. Toby is charming. He mentions Paris Review
paragraphs and give her a B+.
and his hope of being a successful novella-ist. He
Pv
p
I pull Rain’s paper back out and give her a double
waits for me to appreciate the joke. I smile. He talks
grade: C for writing, B for politics. That'll bring her
vaguely of Ralph Ellison and the tyranny of'print. He
running. If T've got to hold office hours, I may as well
leaves with his A- intact. I’ve brought an apple and f r
teach these kids to debate. Not dialogue. Debate.
taste clean. f .
yogurt for lunch. In the silence, the solitude, they
The others do the predictables: Puerto Penasco,
I smell patchouli. Rain follows her scent. She pulls ' 4
kids’ camp, Volunteer in the Parks, back-packing,
river-running, scooping it out at Baskin Robbins. The
her paper from her peasant bag and sets it on the
Kid’s paper is last. The Kid’s papers. I open the
desk.
TI
stained envelope and a wad of paper cutouts falls
“I wonder,” she says, “like I was kind of bummed, A
out. He’s read Burroughs. He knows Dada. He’s cut
no big deal, really, but hopefully we could talk about ,° A
my grade?” j
up old Patti Smith lyric sheets and thrown in some
Her nails are bitten to the quick and very clean.
early Leroi Jones for good measure. There’s more. If
I read the mess right, he’s spent the summer as a
She tucks her feet a under her and perches on the
T KNOW was SANO y
TEKNOW, KNOW I Ky, 4 NOW, Klo, KNOW
T KNOW
f KNO
EXCUSE Me sip HEN
T KNOW Tiy,
1 KNOW
\WHAT 1S IT you Khouw SW NHAr N KNOWN
a
Tr musr
Be WONDERFUL.
To Kow
vou Kw...
|
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chair. I know that any minute she will hunker for-
“Listen,“ I say. “If you want people to hear, write
ward and hug her knees. I wrap the apple core in
about how you heard, what you heard...not so
winds and leans toward the basket.
much the people on the stage, but the people around
“I can use that for my compost,” she says, “I mean,
you... OK?”
like if you don’t mind?”
“Far out,” she says. She flops the bag on my desk
“No,” I say, “hopefully it'll be good for your gar-
and begins rummaging in it. “Here,” she says, “this
den.” I feel a mean little charge in my gut and sur-
is for you. I got it at Telluride. Purple’s a high healing
prise her and myself by apologizing.
power.” She sets a little amethyst crystal on my desk.
works.” 7
“I'm sorry,” I say. She looks eager and puzzled.
I pick it up and hold it in the fluorescent light.
“Rain,” I say, “you don’t use hopefully that way. You
“Sunlight,” she says. “Natural light, that’s what |
can say ‘I hope’ or ‘one hopes,’ but if you are serious
about this course, you will not use hopefully in that
“It’s pretty,” I say. “Thank you.”
way. Hopefully is an adverb: ‘She said hopefully.’
“Blessed be,” she says, blushes, and leaves. I rub
Something like that.”
the crystal along my temples. It’s not much more
than a small cool smoothness.
She mentions another instructor and points out
that he uses it all the time.
The Kid is next and he’s very carefully carelessly
“He's wrong,” I say and try, again, to tell her why.
beautiful. He’s wearing sleek shades, the mirrored
She gets confused. She’s not real sure what an ad-
kind. He’s got a long tweed coat on over beat-up
j verb is. I realize she has no foundation, and I start to
Levis and a clean clean white, button-down shirt. I
think of language in just that way, as a shelter, as a
have to look away. How he does what he does—put
structure, as a home. I imagine a new essay and for-
that surface together without a flaw—it scares me.
get her for a minute. She pokes around in her big
He’s curled his hair and when he pulls off his shades,
bag and pulls out a bandanna. She wipes her eyes. I
I can see that he’s lined his eyes with indigo pencil.
realize she is crying.
He’s got those rich-bitch fine-ass features that our M
“I’m bummed,” she says. “Tve got so much inside
poor Michael J. has had to carve from his living skin
and I can’t get it out so other people can hear. Like
and bones. There’s a silver moon in the Kid’s left
my mom,” she says, “I go home and I play the Red
ear. Its curved up. My friend, Ramona, once told
Rocks tapes and I try to show her some things I wrote
me her people believed that kind of moon was a
about them, about the Dead. I mean, she’s your age,
sign of withholding.
right, so she was my age when they were starting.
“I didn’t expect you'd deal in success or failure,”
And all she can talk about is how I should shave my
he says.
legs and that if T took off all my earrings but one pair
“You’re too damn young to be so damn hip,” I
I'd look so nice. So, I go—.”
say quietly.
I hold up my hand.
“Who judges?” he says quickly. “I like to shatter
“Stop,” I say. “In the first place, you don’t ‘go,’ you
things.”
‘say.’ In the second, you and your mom are not my
“Honey,” I say, “you've got to make before you
break.”
business.”
“Oh,”. she says. “I'm sorry.” She starts to get up.
“I didn’t sign on for political theory,” he says and
“Wait,” I say. She hefis the bag to her shoulder and
smiles. “But, Ms. Green, while we’re at it, what are
wobbles a little from the weight. Compost, I imagine.
yours?”
PLEASE se... Tell me WHAT Yov Khóa,
GOOD HEAVENS... ALL YOU EVER SA |s
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reuME... WHAT DO YOL KNaw 7 a
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OW
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“A,” I say. “And I am Ms. Green, and this is office
hours for Creative Writing 1.”
FHARARRIEITEI
He’s staring at a page in the magazine. “Can I borrow this?” he asks. His voice is thick. When he looks
“A for anarchy?” he persists.
up, his eyes are trancey.
“Be careful,” I say.
VS
this...and I'm getting bored.”
I watch him shape himself back into what he thinks
Rain misses the next class. The Kid hands in his
rewrite and the new assignment in that same stained
him. It’s bitter and piney and somehow comforting.
envelope. I feel a little lump in the package. That
vM
“It’s juniper smoke,” he says. “I got smudged before I came here.”
night, as I take out his work, a sprig of dry sage falls
out. I crush it between my fingers and rub the oils
“Are you Indian?” I ask.
into my wrists, along my temple. I can smell a place
“No,” he laughs. “But I might wannabe.”
I’d like to know. I’m a little surprised when I see that
the accompanying pages are blank. I take up there-
old days; rootless white kids; middle-aged lefi-wing
write with the sage scent plain and strong in the air.
politicos who wannabe—you can find them at Big
“In the pines out behind my mom’s house,” the
Mountain rallies, up on the Mesas at the dances. Navajo, Hopi, Yaqui, that’s what they wannabe. Usetabe
me they’d wannabe. Back in ’61, back in SNCC, in
ning so that suddenly I'm walking through flowers.
A moment before, a moment after, there’s only a
different light and dry grasses.”
girls in cotton shifis, the boys in overalls, the ones
who said “Right on” and “yo mama” and learned to
I give him an A for the work. I fail the blank pages
and give him an A+ for the sage.
signify, I wonder where they are.
“Well, you ain’t,” I say. “You are what we refer to
these days as a son of the dominant culture. How’d
you find out about Burroughs?”
"T'he days later the Kid stops me after a graduate
seminar and asks if we can talk.
“TIl listen,” I say. We go to my office and he waits
“He was a friend of'a friend of my dad’s,” he says.
politely till I'm settled in. Then he slaps the maga-
I know he’s lying. “Whatever,” I say. “Cut-up ain’t
zine down on the desk and just looks at me. He’s
nothin’ but t.p. to me,” I say. “What are we going to
drawn a tiny silver star on his left cheekbone. It’s
do about this?”
terrific against his olive skin. It works like a TV screen
“I'll write something different,” he says. He looks
down. There’s a copy of an international literary
in a gloomy bar; my eyes are pulled back to it, again
and again.
“This stuff is true?” he says.
graphs so technically perfect that they seem to float
up off'the page and monstrous stories of people who
“Yes,” 1 say.
“They would really take a person and shove, you
disappear and those who disappear them. I’m re-
know...a boiling hot rock up their ass? They would
viewing something for the magazine, a book on
do that?” he asks.
South Africa, on women—a country far removed
from me, a sex I’ve come to believe I barely know.
“Is this the kind of stuff you read?” the Kid asks.
“Sometimes,” I say. I check my watch. “Time to
“And more,” I say.
“OK,” he says. “How did I miss all this? I read. I
watch TV My mom’s real aware of things.”
“Who would want to know about it?” I ask.
close up shop,” I say and nod at the door.
Bur
TMNotT EN
NEVER
w WHAT HE 3AYs HE KNows.... .
am boen
Frem
40O WHO CARES IF T DONT KNOW T KNAW.,
3aying
TKnow
IKnow...
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I hand him a pamphlet on Chile, on the Mothers.
knows my'ups and downs, so she calls and we talk
One of their finest journalists, now dead, wrote it.
for two hours. Later I wonder if I'm having one of
Someone here, a woman who has lefi that country,
those midlife crises people are getting rich writing
translated it. The Kid thanks me and leaves his sec-
about.
ond rewrite on my desk. When I finish, I truly want
to be there, on that north California coastline. I want
to see the Great Blue Heron. I want to smell the salt
and pine of the air.
Nobody comes in during office hours. The mail is
a joy. U. of New Mexico Press wants to publish a small
collection of my essays on barely known women
writers of color. Harper’s buys a short piece. There is
A few classes later, we are starting to get to know
an invitation from my chairman to come in and dis-
each other. None of'them has withdrawn. They have
cuss a few things. I lock up and head down the hall.
turned in their poorest, their OK, their on-the-wayto-good, and their surprising work on how it might
be to be a visitor in a foreign country where one
could not speak the language and where one was
immediately identifiable as a stranger. Jon, one of
He is free. He smiles, offers me sherry, and tells
me he’s delighted to hear my news, because, frankly,
g he has become concerned about my failure to make
certain linkages between teaching and publication.
It appears that my priorities are skewed. I dare not
the jams boys, wrote about visiting the girl’s locker
drink the sherry or I will have to ask him in a plainly
room. They have begun to critique each other, to be
nasty way what the hell a “linkage” is. They all talk
very harsh or silent, to say what they would like to
like that these days, not just the education faculty.
hear, and, sometimes, to say what I could not.
Debby Yazzie has tapped on my office door, that
I meet Margot for lunch to celebrate New Mexico
door being wide open, she being unable to raise her
and Harper’s. I bitch clear through her Chardonnay
eyes to meet mine, which I understand. A century
and soda, my rum and Coke, both our salads, and
ago I might have been seen by her people as some
the chocolate suicide we split. I tell her about Ange-
kind of witch, possibly one of those who is so dread-
la’s diagnosis. She laughs.
ful that its name is not spoken. She wants to know if
“Julie tells me the same thing,” she says. Julie is
I ever read Ntozake Shange’s for colored girls who have
. her twenty-year-old going-on-ancient daughter, who
considered suicide/when the rainbow is enuf, and she
- lives in Seattle and knows about securities and pork
wonders if I know that it isn’t so different sometimes
' bellies and Ginny Maes. She’s on two phones eight
for girls of her background. She tells me her favorite -
hours a day and in the company library six more.
sister has gone East to school and that her professor,
She tells Margot she’s too busy for a man, but that
a Japanese woman born in California, had suggested
Margot, being advanced in years, has the luxury of
the book. I have to smile. So does she.
“You know about the eyes?” she asks cautiously.
“We were slaves,” I say. “Different danger, same
gateway.”
kicking back and “drawing in” the right one. She,
like Angela, believes we draw in the events and
people in our lives; draw in negative and, uh uh!
draw in positive—well, my my my! I think living
with the threat of nuclear annihilation has softened
“A ngeh" I write about halfway through the sem-
their brains.
ester. “Help me, child, I am intolerant as our good
“I got to start drawing in those positive men,” I
. Governor. I look at most of the white kids’ papers
say to Margot, “all those smart, healthy, horny, avail-
and all I can see is weak sentences and bad spelling
and arrogance and can’t think and don’t give a damn.
One writes this thin stuff about perfect people in
able middle-aged Black men.”
“Are there any?” Margot asks.
“I believe they are out there in the astral plane
perfect marriages with perfect children who suddenly
somewhere... just waiting on us positive women...
have a DISASTER! and prevail perfectly. Another one
along with all the smart, etc. white guys,” I say.
writes fairy tales. This young man, the clone with the
That’s when we order chocolate suicide and two
perfect bone structure, keeps writing this obscene
spoons. Draw in positive and you get chocolate sui-
elegant mess about cocaine and cars and pussy. I can’t
cide and two not-too-bad-lookin’ women laughing
tell most of the rest of them apart.
and a lunch check for thirty dollars.
“I am a failure of compassion.”
“You need a man,” she writes back. “Swear to God,
Mama, you truly need a man. It’s been eight years.”
Pm so mad I send a telegram. “Like hell I do.” She
Tha night when the phone rings I almost don’t
answer it. It is the Kid. His voice sounds funny. At first
I think he’s high and start to tell him that Ms. Green l
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P -- and Creative Writing 1 do not exist for students mess-
something wet and good-smelling, telling me to
ing with drugs.
hush, calling me child.
“Something happened to the beige one,” he says,
“to Mark.” I realize he’s absolutely sober.
T hare’ a hole in the seminar. You can’t miss it,
“What?” I ask.
and you can’t say a thing about it, especially me. We’re
“He jumped out of the ninth floor of the math
rolling on toward the last few classes. The Kid is writ-
tower,” he says.
It happens about twice a year at this school. I stare
up at the ceiling. “Do Lord,” I say before I can stop
myself. I suddenly wish I had white gloves and good
ing about the early days, about the smell off'the Bay
and the new people who began to move in and the
divorce and split custody and always being the new
kid in class. Rain is dotting her i’s with dots. Toby
has ceased to remind me of an oil slick under a
Jaguar-XKE. Every image I arrive at for him is a sleek
R hear the Kid make some muffled noise.
cliché, and I give up, wondering if that failure isn’t
“Pm here,” | say
the definition. I think once of The Shining. I imagine
“We went for coffee a couple times,” the Kid says.
him peeking around the classroom door, his perfect
J “No big deal, I think we were curious about each
B other. I used to tease him and he got so he'd tease
I back. He’d been so tight, so safe. I played one of the
hair a mess, his gorgeous face grotesque, him whispeering, ‘“Heeeeceeere’s Toby!”
Debby Yazzie comes to my office and walks right
early Talking Heads tapes for him once. He liked it. I
“It’s called ‘The Lady in Turquoise,” she says. “I |
the joke.”
“Listen,” I say, “I don’t mean to be cold, but there’s
nothing left to do...if there ever was anything.”
was thinking about sending it to her, to that Shange
woman. I wanted you to read it first.”
“TIl read it,” I say. “But go ahead and sendit. I bet |
she gets lonely out there.”
“Alright!” she says and pauses. She’s looking at me
i Some feeling starts to crawl toward the surface. I notice the phone is slippery in my hand.
like she’s measuring me for something.
“Listen,” she says. “Ifyou want to try some of our
“Write about it,” I say. “Tve got to go.”
food, there’s a restaurant up near that old grade
“Wait,” he says. “I knew you’d say that. That’s all
school. You could go there.” She says the next part
there is to do, really, isn’t there? I’ve been reading
i those plays you gave me about South Africa. I thought
it was all some nice safe liberal hands-linked-in-front| ofthe-embassy deal. It’s not, right? It’s about people
quickly. “A lot of the neighborhood people do.
Doesn't matter, you know!”
“TIl do that,” I say. “When I used to live up north,
I used to go out to Gray Mountain.”
| being trapped, right? People being killed by some] thing that sucks the air out of them?”
“Write about it,” I say. “Like that. That’s all I’ve got
to give you.”
After I hang up the phone I start to think about
chocolate suicide. I don’t mean to, but the phrase
keeps coming back and back and then I start to laugh
and then to cry. I’ve been working on an article on
linear plotting vs./and flashback. I shut off the type-
Ste smiles. I see clearly how beautiful she is, in her q
torn Motley Crue T-shirt, with the lean flawless line
of her perfect belly visible, with the three woven Guatemalan bracelets on her wrist, with her hair bleached
and permed into that early ‘80s flip the girls on the
Res seem to love. She unties one of the bracelets
and hands it to me. We tie it around my wrist.
“Till it falls off, right?” I ask.
writer and slip an old tape into the deck. The mech-
“For friendship,” she says. “I may have to miss the
anism lurches and Aretha Franklin’s voice, the young
last class. My grandma might need me up there. She’s
Aretha Franklin’s voice finishes me off. I flop on the
getting really old.” She giggles. “She’s so little,” she
couch and let those damn tears run down the sides
says. “Her head comes to my shoulder.”
of my face.
“Bridge over troubled waters...”
I asked for this. I'm crying so hard my chest hurts.
My nose is running and I can hardly breathe. IfI had
] the Kid’s number Id call him back but I don*t, so I
“My grandma’s too,” I say. I think of that small,
proper, fierce woman.
Debby reaches out her hand. “I want you to know
I learned a lot,” she says. We shake. Her grip is gentle
as a`child’s.
just lie on the damp couch cushion and imagine my
grandma sitting in the room, wiping my face with
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their last assignment. It is also their final. It will count
for half their grade. Pastel Jennifer raises her hand.
in front of her and says, “I have a problem and I
“Is that fair, do you think?” she asks.
wonder if maybe you could help me?” She smiles a
“Yes; 1say.
genuinely wistful smile.
“Well, why?” she says.
“Because I am Ms. Green and this is Creative Writing 1 and you are taking it.”
“Well,” she says, “I can see why you would say
“Hopefully,” I say and, for the first time in the semester, I hear her laugh. It’s good laugh, straight up
from her chest. The bells chime along. She takes a
deep breath, closes her ginger eyes and gets serious.
that, but you know, you work real hard on a class or
“My old man left me,” she says and suddenly be-
something and you really try to get something out of
gins to sob. “Don’t worry,” she says, “it’s good to cry
it. I mean, you do your best, you know, like you
like this, to let your feelings out. It clears the fourth
really care a lot about the assignments and your grade,
chakra.”
and everything, and it seems you ought to get something out of all of that that’s really fair.”
I hand her a tissue. I wonder how they get out of
bed in the morning and find their way here, these
“Ido,” 1 say.
kids who live in this maze of teachings. I watch her
“No,” she says. She is blushing behind her blusher.
rub her eyes.
“I mean'me.”
Rain is nodding her dreads vigorously. The Kid
looks at me and shakes his head. “That’s cold, Ms.
Green,” he says.
“Really,” she says, “It’s OK. Besides, I drew him in,
you know, and everything that happens works out.”
I see that it isn’t even teaching, it’s a cheerful chaos `
of beginnings of teachings. And the others, the ones
“True,” I say. “However, when one uses ‘you’ for
who believe that they know exactly where they'll be
‘me,’ I stop listening. I get bored. I don’t like to be
in ten years, the ones with the Life Plans, the ones
bored, OK?”
who look burnished, I cannot bear to think of'them.
I hate myself for that “OK?” and the Kid knows it.
“Your father lefi?” I ask, though I know better.
“No,” she whispers, “Miguel, my old man. He
He grins.
“Jennifer,” I say. “Come and see me. I won’t change
went back to his old old lady. It’s not him. It’s me. I
don’t know how to let go.” She starts to sob again.
just did.”
“OK,” she says and makes it almost a question.
“Rain,” I say. I think I am going to firmly suggest
is the standard one. I want them to write a short
story, nọ more than twenty pages, no less than ten.
take a hot bath, meditate, and listen to the Dead, but
That’s all, except that I want it to be of content and
I don*t. I say, “I know how it is.”
quality. If they don’t know what I mean, it’s too late.
“You do?” she says, and I realize she cannot imagine how one as hefty and middle-aged as I could
J ennifer never makes it to my office, but Rain does.
know about any of this.
She’s tucked her dreads up into a knit tam’o’shanter.
“Yes,” I say. “It’s happened more than once. I hate
It’s red and black and green, and I can hardly stand
it every time, except that I usually lose a few pounds.
to look at it and her pale face, woebegone and hope-
It'll probably happen again.”
ful, beneath it.
“I don’t know if you can help me with this?” she
“What did you do?” she asks. “Like, how did you
let him go?”
says and perches on the chair. She pulls off her tam
“I drank,” I say. “I lived on yogurt till I could start
and her hair tumbles stiffly down around her shoul-
eating too much again. Chocolate. Work. Once I
ders. She’s strung some tiny bells in her braids. I wait
moved two thousand miles. I don’t recommend any
for the sound to fade.
of those options.”
“That carries our prayers,” she says firmly.
“I never heard that one,” I say.
“It’s Tibetan,” she says. “We’re all métis,” she says,
“mixed, you know. Like, we suffer the same, we pray
the same.”
“What if I reject that?” I ask and wish I hadn*t. I
know what comes next and it does.
“No problem,” she says calmly. “It just is.”
“But,” her voice rises to a wail, “how did you stand
10
“I waited for time to pass,” I say. “And I wrote
aboutit”
She takes a green crystal from her pocket and rubs
it on the place where I can see her heart pulse in her
throat. “Sometimes this helps,” she says. She hands
it to me and I rub it over my throat. It feels good,
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for the man-woman kind. She died before she taught
A. 4
it to me.”
lal
Rain tucks the crystal back in her purse. When she =
closes the bag, a puff of air carries the scent of old
, '
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leather and patchouli and herbs.
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“My mom takes Valium,” she says and giggles.
“Different strokes...” I say.
svt
“Well, hopefully...” She grins.
“Write about it,” I say. “Content and quality.”
“Did you really drink?” she asks.
wV;
“I still do,” I say. “Rum and warm milk. Almost
like medicine.”
“Well, like, I don’t want to butt in,” she says, “but
ayaat
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the physical envelope.” She unwinds from the chair
syi
and stretches. Under the layers of clothing and scarves
and sashes, her body is lovely. She tucks her dreads
up into her cap.
“Ms. Green,” she says, “can I ask you something
personal?”
“You can ask,” I say.
“What’s your first name? I mean like if it isn’t se-
U
v
'
å,
cret or ritual, you know, or something like that. I’d
just like to know. I mean, what you told me today, it
was more like we were friends.
“Antoinette,” I say. “Tony, sometimes.” She leans
>T
down, kisses me on the cheek and is gone.
TAA IZRIASA SAN
z e last class is a long one. I ask them to read
~ twenty minutes of their story. I time them. I cannot
> believe how slow the minute hand moves. I don’t
: want to feel this way. By the time the Kid stands in
2 front of the class to read, the setting sun gilds the
~
room. The Kid is wearing a silver dragon on a chain.
,
"` In its claws an opal burns. I have grown numb with
%'
` words. The opal draws my eye. It is an old one. It is
3 fiery and deep, not like the new pale stones built
a from layers ofinferior mineral. The Kid touches the
s dragon once and begins to read.
4 “My name is Mark and sometimes people mis. take me for David Byrne...”
l The Kid's voice shakes. I have watched him grow
] ashen through the other readings, as though the
| `: barrage of words were shrapnel, as though he
| — bled. I wonder if the others see that. Debby Yaz-
a A Ee A
Nancy Wells The Beginning of an Extraordinary Friendsh
crayons on vinyl, 27⁄2"x35".
zie is gone. I read her work. They seemed to be
í íi
bored by it. Their themes frighten me. Each year it
has gotten worse. At the end of his twenty minip, 1989, watercolor
utes, the Kid has let us begin to be curious about
Mark. The sunset is fading. The opal has gone
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UN FENIAN
RAINS اا اRLا
RA FU
7 0 NNER
5 UO 0
ااا
e Ê MH 0 ا18 ۱
flat, like one of the newer, 0 OnEs. 1 نN 7
“Thank you,” I say, and the Kid nods. The others
look up at me. I thank them. All of us realize we are MIAN U
| their things. Rain wipes her eyes with her sleeve. I
ا9
اLN
0
not going to نthe work. They begin to pack ® ۱ i
start down the aisle to collect their papers and see f 0
the Kid rise up to meet me. His fine-boned face is
swollen and red. He slams his paper down on his _
; desk and brushes past me. I hear him stop. Even Ji
Toby looks up. N
RDN wl 1
N E
C۹
The Kid starts to cry. He’s gasping a little. He can’t ا
get his breath to speak. “Do you know?!” he asks.
RR RN
۱ “Do you
have even one idea of what they write about
1 5 H3 0 اin other countries?” He points to Jennifer. She gig- ۹
و1 1 A 7 HHL ۱ gles, then starts to cry. He points to Corey and Steve ا
0 EO ۱ 11 and Jon. Jon says, “Oh maaaaan, lighten up!” The ۹ : 1
1 A Kid points to Toby and repeats the question. 3 ا
ن194
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have
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i ۱ AMARA
about in
other even
countries?
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idea of what they wa ۱
holds his stance. “Tell me,” he says.
100ا
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ا0 {R0
The Kid’s arm drops. In silence the students file ۳
اout. Jennifer touches the Kid gently on the shoulder. 0N 1 ن
1 room. We each gather up our papers and pens and ٨
۱ 7 7 LER 1 HAR various packs and bags and briefcase. The Kid is a RIAN NONNRY ا
1 4 these small ways to putys things
Rain moves be- ۱
to p gS ng right.
۳ 7 RAG ۸ ۱ A little wild-eyed, but he moves with grace through اIR
1 ل0 6 IA tween the Kid and me.
س0 6 1 “Nick, Tony,” she says in a clear voice, “Miguel left ا۳
3. 5 i 0 some chocolate behind, some beautiful Mexican M0
lhe 0 6 LG A 0 i۴ Ê chocolate with cinnamon in it. I know how to make 1 ۱ ب
EA 1 NEC it. He showed me. I could make up some. Would ا1 ۱ 1
iA نۇ
RN I come
smileto my
at room?”
her. 11
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HR nN RL) 4 “OK,” she says, “Yowll love it. It's not like Quik Bf . ا
va! dipa مat all.” 0 e
A: LI “Nick,” I say. “So that’s your name.” I turn back to 1 9
7 ا۲ A 4 Rain. “And yours?” Task. “Is it Rain?’ [1
| HRN TN 0 “ لMy name is Linda,” she says. She touches the back a
| نااااN5 f ٧٣ Kt نof my hand. She touches Nick.
A Ep 0 0 N اshe says. “Please. I'm glad to have you 0
۳ ١ ن1 6 1 visit.” I's gone dark, and we stand in the dim room |}!
۱ a minute. Nick shakes his head as an animal 2 J
1 ۳ اoff pain. And then, together, we go out. * ۱ ا
۱ 1 ۱ ا0 ٍ ا۱ WRN Mary Sojourner is the author of Sisters of the Dream (North- 1 ۲
ا
١ A i!
E. 0 ۸e hi
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Going Through
Ghosts, and knows
that we are indeed
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Publishing,
Flagstaff,
Ariz.),
is working on a new novel, He 1 ۹۹ ا١ ٭
۲Cede
4 RMEL
71
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When Yeoun Jae Kang interviewed me in late 1988 I
them to discuss their lives and their art freely. Thirdly,
we hope to make a “sampler” videotape with some of
was a junior majoring in art history at Mills College in
these artists, which would make them more readily accessible to curators, collectors, and critics.
Since no one seemed to have done much research
Oakland, California. As co-director of the Mills Col-
before on this subject, I didn't know quite how to go
about finding material. Moira Roth handed me a stack
lege Asian-American Women’s Art Research Project, I
of general articles on women artists of color and organizations. We talked at length about the problems |
work with Moira Roth, the project’s other director.
might encounter and how to deal with them. She suggested that | contact Margo Machida, a New York artist
who was also collecting material on this subject. Margo
Professor Roth, a feminist art historian and head of
had a list of some twenty artists and organizations. So |
began. | started contacting as many local Asian com-
the art department at Mills College, devises projects
munity organizations as | could locate in order to ask
for names. Mostly through word of mouth, | quickly
began collecting names of West Coast Asian-American
that teach students the how and why of finding the
women artists. Currently I have collected over seventy
names, and we have begun to contact them for material.
missing threads of our country’s artistic fabric. Speci-
I had to learn effective phone skills—how to talk to
people concisely while creating an interest in my proj-
fically, we are working on this project to direct the
ect. While it may seem trivial, it was quite necessary to
buy an answering machine to handle the phone messages. Many times | wished | had a full-time secretary
campus toward becoming a center for research on
to handle the mail and phones. Organization is key. |
set up a filing system for the artists with articles and
multicultural women’s art.
exhibition catalogs. I began to use a computer to store
YJK: How did you go about the research?
and update information and to print out correspon-
DA: There are many aspects to this research project.
dence to organizations and artists.
The first task was to collect material: lists of names and
YJK: What have you learned so far from your research?
addresses, articles, and literature on the artists and
DA: The first thing I realized was the terrible dearth of
slides of their work (which we intend to house in the
information on Asian-American artists in general and
Mills slide library for future reference). Secondly, we
the lack of a functional network system among them.
have begun to conduct interviews with certain artists.
The absence of scholarship on the subject of Asian-
To conduct a good interview requires thinking on sev-
American artists may explain the lack of a network sys-
eral levels at once: Is the tape recorder still working?
tem. They are a fragmented group: Some Asian-Ameri-
What should I ask her next? What did she just say that
can artists work solely within the Asian communities,
seemed significant? Most importantly, trust and rap-
while others work primarily in mainstream art venues
port with the artists must be established in order for
without much contact with other Asian-American artists.
The Art of
Education
== S50
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Tomie Arai Women's Wheel, 1989, mixed
media, 12"x12". Photo: D. James Dee.
How and Why To Research the Work of
Asian-American Women Artists
DAWN AOTANI
Secondly, while I knew there would be diversity within
the Asian-American experience, | wasn't aware of the
specific aspects that | needed to consider in my research, such as whether the artists were Americanborn or had immigrated as children or adults.
Thirdly, the term “Asian-American” is so broad. There
Asian heritage and the degree of assimilation determine different needs, expectations, and experiences.
the boundaries with regard to medium. For example,
in addition to the standard “high art” forms, such as
painting and sculpture, | have come across several
are significantly different groups of Asian-Americans:
Japanese-American women artists working in textile
Japanese-Americans, Chinese-Americans, Vietnamese-
and ceramics. Textile art, such as fiber and weaving,
Americans, Korean-Americans, and so on. I had to
and ceramics, which have deep historical roots in Jap-
focus on the context of each Asian-American artist: her
51 —
Fourthly, I had to reevaluate what | considered to be
anese culture, have often been written off in the West
specific cultural heritage and her family’s circumstances
as merely “craft.” It is easier nowadays to argue for
as well as her personal history. Essentially, the type of
these “crafts” as legitimate art forms because of the
Heresies 25
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efforts made by American feminists in the 1970s on
behalf of this country’s quilts and folk arts.
Finally, I realize that research in this subject must be
need to be on the walls and within the administration.
First, for social and political reasons, the art should be
representative of the public. “Minorities” are an increas-
continued. The primary goal of this project is that it
ingly significant part of the population of the United
should act as a catalyst for further inquiry. This project
States. In the case of the San Francisco area, whites
is not an end in itself but rather a beginning. It’s excit-
now make up less than 50 percent of the population.
ing right now, however, because | am connecting with
(Therefore, the term “minority” now seems inappropri-
people who have heard about the project and want
ate.) Second, simply based on its quality, this art should
lists or want to suggest more names. It's beginning to
be shown.
function as a much-needed network system, and | plan
soon to publish (in some modest form) an AsianAmerican women artists; newsletter. It would be interesting to see these artists create a support system
among themselves and to see the results of such a
support system.
YJK: What are your personal reasons for doing the
project?
DA: Mostly it's my own way of understanding myself.
I am Asian-American and a woman interested in the
arts. | find it significant that | was raised in Hawaii, because Asians are far from being the minority there; we
YJK: Could you talk specifically about the situation of
contemporary Asian-American art?
DA: There is a tendency for financial and critical support to be given to traditional Asian arts over contemporary Asian-American art. This tendency suggests a
stereotype of a “pure” Asian form, that one is either
Asian or American, two separate identities. This situation is reflective of a larger problem with stereotypes in
this country. Financial and critical support needs
to extend out to encompass contemporary AsianAmerican artists; this would then help validate the
voices of Asians who are Americans. Asian-Americans
are not simply Asian nor are they apple-pie American,
are in fact the majority. Consequently | never considered myself as a minority. So when | came to the mainland for college, I was shocked by racial stereotypes. |
was fearful of believing in them and felt it necessary
to prove them wrong. My interest in art led me in search
of Asian-American women artists, who became role
models for me and whose work provided me with many
insights into our particular cultural experience. Essentially, however, | began thinking about all this in 1984,
while still in Hawaii, when | wrote a senior paper, “Assimilation of the Asian-American Female,” based on
Maxine Hong Kingston’s novel 7he Woman Warrior,
which was my first introduction to an Asian-American
woman's voice.
but to varying degrees they are a blend of both cultures;
they can never ignore one or the other. Then there is
the problem of the stereotype of “the Asian-American.”
For example, in professional and educational spheres,
there is the stereotype that Asian-Americans excel only
in math and sciences. Well, what about those AsianAmericans who are interested in the arts?
In late 1987 I found this touching passage by Alice
Walker, which tells of her search for the unmarked grave
of Zora Neale Hurston. Hurston was a major black
woman writer who died unrecognized and whose beautiful work and life influenced Walker greatly.
We are a people. A people do not throw their geniuses away. And if
they are thrown away, it is our duty as artists and as witnesses for the
YJK: What is the general current situation of support,
future to collect them again for the sake of our children, and, if neces-
financial and critical, for women artists of color?
sary, bone by bone.
DA: Public money in support of the arts tends to go to
(Alice Walker, /n Search of Our Mother's Gardens, [New York: Harcourt
those organizations that support predominantly white
Brace Jovanovich, 1983.1)
male artists. When financial and critical support is given
For me, there was something very inspirational in Alice
to artists other than white male artists, it is usually given
Walker's determined efforts to validate the achievements
to white women and/or male nonwhite artists. So here,
and existence of another black woman writer. | want to
with women artists of color, we have a situation of a
do the same for Asian-American women artists: to find
double minority status; consequently they tend to be
these women and publish their voices. X
overlooked a great deal. In general, the problem with
color or ethnic diversity in museums includes not only
the color of the artists but also that of the administrative
staff. There are several reasons why more “minorities”
Dawn Aotani was born in Honolulu, Hawaii, in 1965. She
recently graduated from Mills College in Oakland, California,
with a B.A. in art history.
The Art of
Education
— 52
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S O M E
Women, Art,
and Cross-
Cultural Issues
day with a slide blitz of work by women
paper strips surrounding the fountain
of color (and by a few white women who
that is the core of the campus. Two big
had really thought about the issues); then
dice floated in the water, and the board
we discussed readings or films and vid-
game’s squares dealt in words and im-
eos seen. Each student was required to
ages with race, sex, and other social is-
write three letters: first, to herself, ex-
sues in the context of events at and
For a seminar called “Women, Art, and
plaining who she was from a cultural
around the university. A videotape was
Cross-Cultural Issues” taught for one se-
viewpoint and what her experiences
made of the event.
mester in 1989 at the University of Colo-
around race and culture had been; sec-
rado in Boulder, I had to make my own
ond, to an artist whose work I had
(huge) reader of articles, artists’ state-
shown, kind of an imaginary studio in-
organized in Boulder for two years (and
ments, and catalogue texts because there
terview; third, to her granddaughter, who
intend to continue). It’s called “Mixing
were virtually no texts that dealt with
might be of a different or mixed race.
these issues together. The required books
The final requirement was to execute,
artists of color—an African-American, an
were Heresies “Third World Women” and
collaboratively, an activist project on cam-
Asian-American, a Latina, and a Native
“Racism Is the Issue” (nos. 4 and 8, 1978
pus, to take the issues we had discussed
American —to make a small exhibition;
LUCY R. LIPPARD
and 1979); Autobiography: In Her Own
out ofthe classroom and into the broader
Finally, one student group worked
with me on a two-day symposium I have
It Up” and brings to campus four women
speak; do workshops; radio and video
interviews; interact with students in and
Image (the catalogue of'a traveling show
community. One group “seeded” bath-
curated by Howardena Pindell that orig-
rooms in various departments with
out of studios; and generally provide
inated at INTAR, New York City); and the
graffiti about racism and sexism and then
voices rarely heard on this campus. (In
two issues of Cultural Critique (nos. 6
recorded the “responses.” Another did
1988 the artists were Beverly Buchanan,
a piece on index cards mixed with the
Amalia Mesa-Bains, Yong Soon Min, and
and 7, 1987) that focused on “The Nature and Context of Minority Discourse.”
The class was too big (twenty-five) to
conduct as a seminar, so I started each
usual fare on the Student Union bulletin
Jaune Quick-To-See Smith; in 1989, Judy
board. The most ambitious project was
Baca, Robbie McCauley, Jolene Rickard,
a huge “monopoly game” on brown
and May Sun.) These personal informal
encounters were probably more effective than anything I did in class. X
Lucy R. Lippard is a writer and activist who lives
in New York and Boulder, Colorado. She recently
completed a book for Pantheon called Mixed
Blessings.
Aesthetic Questions
RUTH BASS & MARSHA CUMMINS
Aesthetic questions were used to structure an interdisciplinary course in aesthetics developed by several Bronx Community College faculty members with
the support ofa grant from the National
Endowment for the Humanities. The
course was structured around three
major questions: Are truth and beauty
synonymous? Does art reflect or influence society? To what extent does order
or chaos in art reflect human nature? The
questions, each of which was framed
with three subquestions, were discussed
in relation to works of art, architecture,
music, poetry, dance, drama, and aesthetic theories.
Sara Pasti
The format of using questions rather
sT S919339 H
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S O M E
than topic headings makes clear to students that there are many points of view
ties fellow in The Community Colleges Project
public relations department. The assign-
under a grant from the Andrew W. Mellon
ment read:
Foundation.
—not necessarily a single “correct”
“This year marks the 100th anniversary
ofthe Aunt Jemima trademark and de-
one—and makes for lively discussions.
Marsha Cummins, Ph.D., has been a professor
The course has been given three times
and is currently being revised.
Following is a sample of questions, artists, and theoretical writings to think
of English at Bronx Community College since
1971. She is extremely involved with the Writing
Across the Curriculum movement, which arose
Milling Company packaged flour, the
first ready-made mix of any kind ever
out of a need for greater literacy, fluency, and
comprehension in a nonwriting age.
about:
Can/should artists record the world
sign, formulated by two men in Saint
Joseph, Missouri, to market their Davis
developed. Their fictive character of
Aunt Jemima has become the most te-
nacious of ethnic stereotypes. Write a
short (approximately five-page) paper
African America:
in which you consider the social, economic, and historical factors that ac-
Theoretical works: Plato, The Republic;
Images, Ideas, and
count for the origins and persistence
Susan Sontag, On Photography; José Or-
Realities
of everyday experience?
tega y Gasset, “Esthetics on the Streetcar” in Phenomenology and Art; John
Dewey, Art As Experience: The Mustard
Seed Garden Manual of Painting.
EVA GRUDIN
Modersohn-Becker, Pablo Picasso, Marie
compare the four changing images of
plain why the images change in the way
they do. Consider, too, what in the
Eva Gruðdin teaches African, European, and
African-American art at Williams College in
Massachusetts. She mounted the exhibition and
Artists: African tribal artists, Paula
of this advertising image. In addition,
Aunt Jemima provided for you and ex-
wrote the catalogue for Stitching Memories:
African-American Story Quilts, which traveled
course of time has not changed.”
This topic was the first in twenty years
of essay assignments that excited my students enough to have many say their per-
from the Williams College Museum to the Studio
Laurencin, Georgia O'Keeffe, Phillip
Pearlstein, Audrey Flack, Janet Fish, Alice
Neel, Mary Frank, John De Andrea,
Reginald Hildebrand, her colleague in the history department, devised this interdisciplinary
course as a means to study the experiences of
Duane Hanson, Fumio Yoshimura, Rob-
Blacks in America.
ceptions ofthe world had been changed.
Devising the art-historical aspects of
this course proved difficult for me, however, because I came to this material the
ert Mapplethorpe.
“African America: Images, Ideas, and Re-
hard way—as an autodidact. Books on
Does an artist have an obligation to
alities,” a course first taught in Fall 1989
American art generally make no men-
her/his ethnic background?
at Williams College in Massachusetts, was
tion of art by Black Americans. These
designed to investigate images of'and by
“comprehensive surveys” ignore even
Theoretical work: Langston Hughes,
“The Negro Artist and the Racial Mountain,” The Nation, June 23, 1926.
Artists: Betye Saar, Romare Bearden,
Jacob Lawrence, Alma W. Thomas, Faith
Ringgold, Howardena Pindell, Sam
Gilliam, Maxine Hong Kingston,
Bernard Malamud, Jimmy Durham, Kay
Walkingstick.
Do works of art influence ideas and
behavior?
Theoretical work: Monroe C. Beardsley, “Moral and Critical Judgments” in
Aesthetics: Problems in the Philosophy of
Blacks. The class of mostly juniors inves-
monly portrayed, the people who controlled these images, and to what end.
Paintings, photographs, advertisements,
and films were the primary documents.
Discarding the usual hierarchies, the
can art. They are not. And so I have had
peck method ofresearch. To spare some
California Raisins, and Robert Mapple-
of you my early flailing about, I’d like to
thorpe’s contortionists were given equal
share some readings. x
consideration.
The essay assignment for the course
concerned racial stereotypes and as-
American history. The students were
given four pictures of Aunt Jemima. One
Lee, Judy Chicago, Hannah Wilke, Hung
image from the turn of the century and
critic, and painter. She is currently a humani-
should be familiar to Ph.D.s in Ameri-
to rely more or less on the hunt-and-
sumed a basic grounding in African-
Ruth Bass, Ph.D., is a professor of art, art
Bannister, Aaron Douglas, and William
culture: Faith Ringgold’s quilts, the
Pablo Neruda, Chinua Achebe, Spike
Frida Kahlo. X
reputations. Edmonia Lewis, Edward
Johnson are just a few of the names that
class freely mingled fine art and popular
Artists: June Jordan, Imamu Baraka,
Leon Golub, Sue Coe, Diego Rivera,
those Black artists who bucked the odds
tigated the kinds of images most com-
Criticism.
Liu, Oyvind Fahlstrom, Ida Applebroog,
TE
Museum of Harlem in 1989-90. Grudin and
another from the 1930s came from the
catalogue Ethnic Notions. The other two
images, the 1968-89 Jemima and the latest pearl-earringed version, were provided by the Quaker Oats Company’s
Recommended Readings
in African-American
Art and Images
Important Resources
The Hatch-Billops Collection, 491 Broadway, 7th Floor, New York, N.Y. 10012.
An archive of Black American cultural
history that serves as a research library and includes slides, tapes, pho-
tographs, and exhibition catalogues.
American Visions:The Magazine of AfroAmerican Culture , published by the Visions
JO VV RYL
r
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S O M E
h
Foundation, Frederick Douglass House
. “Art or Propaganda.” The Critical
— Capitol Hill, Smithsonian Institution,
Temper of Alain Lockeed. Jeffrey C. Stewart.
Washington, D.C. 20560. Ask them to in-
New York: Garland, 1983, pp. 27-28.
form you of their periodic conferences on
issues in Black American art. Some of
the past conferences are available on
audiocassette.
General
Driskell, David C. “Art by Blacks: Its Vital Role
in the U.S. Culture.” Smithsonian (Oct.
Schmidt-Campbell, Mary. Harlem Renaissance:
Art of Black America, with essays by David
Driskell, David Levering Lewis, and Deborah Willis Ryan. New York: Studio Mu-
seum in Harlem-Abrams, 1987.
Schuyler, George S. “The Negro Hokum.”
The Nation, Vol. 122, No. 3180 (June 1926):
662-663.
1976): 86—93.
———. Hidden Heritage: Afro-American Art,
1800-1950. San Francisco: Association,
1985.
. Two Centuries of Black American Art.
New York: Knopf, 1976.
Fine, Elsa Honig. The Afro-American Artist: A
Search for Identity. Holt, Rinehart, Winston,
1973. Reprint, New York: Hacker Books,
1982.
Porter, James A. Modern Negro Art. New York:
Dryden Press, 1943.
“Racism” issue, Heresies, Vol. 4., No. 3,
Issue 15 (1982).
Harlem Renaissance
Historical Background
Dubois, W. E. B. “Of Our Spiritual Strivings.”
Crisis (Oct. 1926.)
Hughes, Langston. “The Negro Artist and the
Locke, Alain. “The American Negro As Art-
cisco: Quilt Digest Press, 1989.
and Crafts. Jackson: University Press of
Mississippi, 1983.
Grudin, Eva Ungar. Stitching Memories: AfricanAmerican Story Quilts. Williamstown, Mass.:
Williams College Museum of Art, 1990.
Leon, Eli. Who’d a Thought It: Improvisation in
African-American Quiltmaking. San Francisco: San Francisco Craft and Folk Art
Museum, 1987.
1986, pp. 363-371.
Livingston, Jane, and John Beardsley, with a
Ellison, Ralph. Introduction to Shadow and
Act. New York: Random House, 1964.
Art in America 1930-1980. Jackson: Cor-
Huggins, Nathan I., Martin Kilson, and Daniel
coran Gallery of Art/University Press of
Fox, eds. Key Issues in the Afro-American
Experience, vols. I, II. New York: Harcourt
Brace Jovanovich, 1971.
Wesley, Charles H. “Creating and Maintaining
an Historical Tradition.” Journal of Negro
History (Jan. 1964):13-33.
contribution by Regenia Perry. Black Folk
Mississippi, 1982.
Vlach, John Michael. The Decorative Tradition
in the Decorative Arts. Cleveland: Cleveland
Museum of Art, 1978.
Wilson, James L. Clementine Hunter: American
Folk Artist. Gretna, La.: Pelican Publishing,
1988.
White Relations in the American South Since
Emancipation. New York: Oxford Unversity
Black Women Artists
Press, 1986.
Bontemps, Arna Alexander, ed. Forever Free.
African-American Folk
Art and Crafts
ist.” The Critical Temper of Alain Lockeed,
Jeffrey C. Stewart. New York: Garland, 1983.
and Quilts on American Society. San Fran-
Farris, William, ed. Afro-American Folk Arts
Huggins, New York: Library of America,
Racial Mountain.” The Nation, Vol. 122,
No. 3181 (June 23, 1926): 692-694.
Hearts and Hands: The Influence of Women
In W. E. B. DuBois’ Writings, ed. Nathan
Williamson, Joel. Rage for Order: Black and
DuBois, W. E. B. “Criteria for Negro Art.” The
Craft. New York: Van Nostrand Reinhold,
1971.
Ferraro, Pat, Elaine Hedges, and Julie Silber.
Chase, Judith Wragg. Afro-American Art and
Alexandria, Va.: Stevenson, 1980. (An
exhibition of art by African-American
women 1862-1980).
Brown, Kay. “Where We At: Black Women
S7 SƏ1S939H
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Artists.” Feminist Art Journal, Vol. 1 (April
1972): 25.
Cliff, Michelle. “Object into Subject: Some
Thoughts on the Work of Black Women
Artists” In Visibly Female: Feminism and Art
Today, ed. Hilary Robinson, London:
Camden Press, 1987, pp. 140-157.
Wallace, Michele, ed. Faith Ringgold: Twenty
Years of Painting, Sculpture and Performance.
New York: Studio Museum in Harlem,
1984.
Images of Blacks
Benberry, Cuesta. “White Perceptions of Blacks
in Quilts and Related Media.” Uncoverings
(1983): 59-74.
Berkeley Arts Center. Ethnic Notions: Black
Images in the White Mind. 1982. Berkeley
Arts Center, 1275 Walnut Street, Berkeley,
Cal. 94709. Exhibition catalogue of Afro-
American stereotypes and caricatures, with
essays by Robbin Henderson, Leon
Litwack, Erskine Peters, introduction by
Janette Faulkner.
Dalton, Karen C. C., and Peter H. Wood.
Winslow Homer’s Images of Blacks: The Civil
War and Reconstruction Years. Introduction
by Richard J. Powell. Austin: Menil Collection/University of Texas Press, 1988.
Honour, Hugh. The Image of the Blacks in
Wheat, Ellen Harkins. Jacob Lawrence, Amerisippi, 1983, pp. 27—63.
Western Art, vol. IV. Cambridge: Harvard
University Press, 1989.
Parry, Ellwood. The Image of the Indian and the
Black Man in American Art: 1500—1900.
New York: Braziller, 1974.
Vintage Books, 1984.
Vlach, John. “The Shotgun House: An American Architectural Legacy.” In Afro-American
Photography
Folk Arts and Crafts, ed. William Ferris
Jackson: University Press of Mississippi,
Marks, Laura U. “Reinscribing the Self: An
Interview with Clarissa Sligh.” Afterimage,
Vol. 17, No. 5 (Dec. 1989).
Moutoussany-Ashe, Jeanne. Viewfinders: Black
Women Photographers. New York: Dodd,
Mead, 1986.
Willis-Thomas, Deborah. Black Photographers,
1840-1940: An Illustrated Bio-bibliography.
New York: Garland, 1985.
. Black Photographers, 1940—1988: An
Illustrated Bio-bibliography. New York: Garland, 1989.
and Howard Dodson. Black Photog— 56
raphers Bear Witness: 100 Years of Social
Protest. Williamstown, Mass.: Williams College Museum of Art, 1989.
African Influences on
African-American Art
“African Symbolism in Afro-American Quilts.”
1983, pp. 274—295,
Wahlman, Maude Southwell. “AfricanAmerican Quilts: Tracing the Aesthetic
Principles.” The Clarion, Vol. 14, No. 2
(Spring 1989): 44-54.
68-76.
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Thompson, Robert Farris. “African Influence
on the Art of the United States.” In Afro-
versity of Washington Press, 1986.
Art at Mid-Century
Ellison, Ralph. “The Art of Romare Bearden.”
In Chant of Saints: A Gathering of AfroAmerican Literature, Art and Scholarship, ed.
Michael S. Harper and Robert B. Stepto.
Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 1979,
pp. 156-165.
Locke, Alain. “Up Till Now.” In The Critical
Temper of Alain Locke, ed. Jeffrey C. Stewart. New York: Garland, 1983, pp. 191-194.
19th-Century Artists
Hartigan, Lynda Roscoe. Sharing Traditions:
Five Black Artists in Nineteenth Century
America: From the Collections of the National
Museum of American Art. Washington, D.C.:
Smithsonian Institution Press, 1985.
Richardson, Marilyn. “Vita Edmonia Lewis.”
Harvard Magazine (March/April 1986).
Weekley, Carolyn J., et al. Joshua Johnson:
Freeman and Early American Portrait Painter.
Baltimore: Maryland Historical Society,
1987.
1930s and 1940s
African Arts, Vol. 20, No. 1 (Nov. 1986):
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can Painter. Seattle: Seattle Museum/Uni-
. Flash of the Spirit: African and AfroAmerican Art and Philosophy. New York:
Hayes, Vertis. “The Negro Artist Today.” In Art
for the Millions, ed. Francis O'Connor.
Boston: New York Graphic Society, 1973,
pp. 210—212.
Monroe, Gerald M. “The ’30s: Art, Ideology
1960s and Early 1970s
Davis, Douglas. “What Is Black Art?” Newsweek
(June 22, 1970): 89.
Perry, Bruce, ed. Malcolm X: The Last Speeches.
New York: Pathfinder, 1989.
Schmidt-Campbell, Mary. Tradition and Conflict:
Images of a Turbulent Decade, 1963—1973.
New York: Studio Museum in Harlem,
1985.
Smith, Frank. “Afri-Cobra: Twenty Years Later.”
Drum (May 1988).
Contemporary Trends
Jones, Kellie. “Interview with David Hammons.” Art Papers: Covering the Arts in the
Southeast, Vol. 12, No. 4 (July/Aug. 1988):
39-42.
“Painting It Black: African American Artists in
American Folk Arts and Crafts, ed. William
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ton Post (Dec. 10, 1989). x
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How to Make an
HExcellent
a T aTeacher
Bwn
7 BARBARA A. ST. JOHN (
Select Poke Sauté reduce poking
one Grade A student with a
repeatedly with state tacher
B.A. (Many grade A students
competencies.
themselves into math/
science/engineering or
Remove
student from ed classroom
to substitute a grade C
and place in elementary/
student.)
secondary classroom.
student in large, statefunded teachers' college pot
a cup of observation.
Repeat
straining, and
grate
with thirty to thirty-five
teeny-boppers in elementary/secondary classroom.
doneness by
straining
student with cheesecloth
Student should be half baked
by Christmas.
procedure until eyes are
glazed and brain is shrunk.
with tests to throw student
off balance.
classroom.
made of lesson plans.
red tape.
Stir
Return
to elementary/secondary
Make first check for
Add
after putting through ricer of
Vigorously
1ncrease
amount of lesson plan
M.B.A. pots. You may have
Place
in the ed classroom,
with ed research written requirements.
have a tendency to throw
Allow to rest
as with yeast bread.
Grab
About June 15th
check Ê$or
doneness.
Student should be mentally
and physically limp.
Stuff
cored teaching credential in
mouth. Student is then
Place
a handful of strategies, as
Repeat
ready to be placed in school
many as you can, and wrap
above procedure
district pot and is now an
in education classroom.
student tightly.
except
Excellent Teacher.
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The photograph leads the mind
to the actual world...
—58
If it is of a nude, it will
make one think of women, not art.
Education
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m
Hannah Wilke created a female iconography in the 19504. She is a conceptual artist working in scu {ptural materials, photography, painting, and performance art.
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The ways of poetry are many, and whacking
Yes, I do mean to be catty.
words against thighs, spotting clean sheets
I am tired of male see-my-pecker poets
who always seem to get published. Dirty Boys
of academic journals with sperm images,
from Hoboken to Carmel-by-the-Sea :
or rimming out the thought-infused mind
don’t have to lift a metaphor or run a thought
with tight little words like cunt
along a line to get some buddy editor
must be among the trendy ways of getting off
a load of committee-infested days
to celebrate every late night emission
they care to spill. Call it penis envy,
and middle-age nights. Or maybe these
call me the castrating female
are the angry young poets of our day
with little to shoot off but their mouths.
or, worse, a prude. I stopped
turning somersaults without my pants on
Either way, I for one am tired
when I was three.
of well-entrenched open-trench-coat poets.
Je uA
X
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PAP SHEET
(cherished advice from teachers and family)
Why did you give Santa a black beard?
Santa doesn't have a black beard.
"p"
PAMBLA DESIRES
AN ARTIST TO BE
A PORTRAIT BY P.S.
What are those yellow lines coming out
of the sun? You made it look as if the
sun has whiskers.
SOME DAY YOU WILL SEE
PAMELA SHOEMAKER 327 HICKORY LANE HADDONFIELD, N.J.
We don't have a real art program, but
we do have an art teacher who gives
classes twice a week,
atete
Saint Margarets School
Waterbury, Connecticut
The honors of graduation are conferred upan '
Cj
Pamela huntshoemaker
in testimony that she has completed ‘Ehe presrribed
conrear of study and is therefore awarded this diploma
the ninth day of Junerase
You may go to any college you want,
but if you want to go to art school,
you have to live at home and go in
. Philadelphia. If you still want to go
3 after 2 years of college, then we'll
PRAESES- ET- CURATORES-COLLEGII-VASSARINI
IN: NOVI -EBORACI-FINIBUS
OMNIBUS-HAS-LITTERAS-PERLECTURIS- SALUTEM
NOTUM'SIT: PAMELA • HUNT © SHOEMAKER "AD -LITTERARUM -AC
SCIENTIARUM STUDIA - ET - AD - CETERA - HUJUSCE ACADEMIAE- OMNIA OFFICIA
DILIGENTER FELICITERQUE -INCUBUISSE
QUAMOBREM -PRO -AUCTORITATE NOBIS - COMMISSA - FACULTATE - APPROBANTE
EAM-TITULO -GRADUQUE -QUI -APPELLARI -SOLET
ARTIUM -BACCALAUREUS
CONDECORAVIMUS ` ET- OMNIA -JURA -HONORES - INSIGNIA UBIQUE- GENTIUM
Twenty years old is too young for a
girl to be on her own in New York.
If you want to quit college and go to
art school, you can live at home and
go in Philadelphia
OOA
AD-EUNDEM -PERTINENTIA-IN-EAM-CONTULIMUS
CUJUS - REI - HAE -MEMBRANULAE -CUM ` SIGILLO -ACADEMICO -ET - CHIROGRAPHO
PRAESIDIS -TESTIMONIO SINT
EX-AEDIBUS-ACADEMICIS- DIE- QUINTO -IUNII-ANNO-DOMINI-MDCCCCLXVI
fter four years at a good college,
you should be able to support yourself., If you still want to go to art
school, you. should be able to pay for
it yourself
The COOPER UNION forthe Advancement of Science and Art s
m why do you have to quit that wonder-
HAS SATISFACTORILY COMPLETED THE PRESCRIBED COURSE OF STUDY IN
THE COOPER UNION SCHOOL OF ART AND ARCHITECTURE AND 1S HEREBY AWARDED THIS CERTIFICATE
ful job togo to art school? Why can't
you just take a couple of courses at
the Art Student's League?
We11l if you want to be an artist, all
I can say is tħat you had better find
yourself a rich husband or one who's
a famous artist himself, because no
woman gets anywhere as an artist without one or the other.
Of course in my day people thought an
MFA killed an artist's imagination,
r sister tells me that now no
Pamela Shoemaker Rap Sheet, 1989, pen and ink.
Pamela Shoemaker is a New York artist whose work appears in public spaces.
Heresies 25
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cations ask which college you attended?)
Some colleges are markers for being the
boss not the employee, the manager instead of the managed. |t is in the mindset rather than the academic program of
the institution. These are the historically
From what | have learned so far, sociol-
thought to be a way to “better” oneself.
white elitist institutions, which include not
ogy is the methodological study of how
When education is looked at in terms of
only the Ivy League schools (Harvard, Yale,
people interact within society and how so-
what it does in society, the term “better”
Columbia, Dartmouth, Princeton, and the
ciety acts upon the individual. Sociology
means to raise one's class and economic
like) but also their Seven Sisters counter-
helps people explore patterns in society
status. However, those who already have
parts: Smith, Radcliffe, Wellesley, Mount
that some would like to believe don't exist,
power, wealth, privilege, and status actively
Holyoke, Vassar, Bryn Mawr, and Barnard.
like how “decent,” “normal” people's ac-
want to keep it. Not only do individuals
Other prestigious institutions such as
tions can and do support the extreme ac-
act to maintain their own personal power,
Swarthmore, Amherst, Duke, and Stanford
“That’s just your opinion” that are so often
but groups act as a collective to maintain
provide the next level in the hierarchy. You
used to choke off dialogue rather than con-
the status quo distribution of privilege,
know the names. They are the ones you
tinue it.
wealth, and power. This not necessarily
are supposed to be impressed by when
Both more and less than a sociological
calculated or even conscious group main-
someone says she/he graduated from
study, this article is an effort to integrate
tenance of status quo is called hegemony.
there. When interviewing for a job, it is dis-
my semirural, working-class Black/white
In a supposedly class-free capitalist coun-
turbing to note the increased respect in
background with my experiences as a stu-
try, education becomes the system of ac-
the tone of the interviewer when | say |
dent at Bryn Mawr College and with the
cess to power and privilege.
am a Bryn Mawr graduate. One of the
tions of such groups as the Ku Klux Klan,
how women are taught to disempower
themselves, or how the educational system is not much more egalitarian than it
was in the fifties. Sociology provides a way
to get beyond defensive remarks such as
functioning mechanisms of the educa-
The general rationale goes like this: The
functions of hegemonic control is to con-
United States is a meritocracy where you
earn success through your abilities.
White
ities so that you will be more qualified for
higher-paying, more prestigious jobs.
Elitist
Some schools are “better” than others, by
virtue of having “better” professors and
vince people that there are no mecha-
whole. | am the first in my family to attend
“better” academics to “better” prepare
nisms of control at work, nothing is hap-
an lvy League—level school. My family is
you. Prepare you for what? Ah, that must
pening, merit won the day. It also teaches
so proud of me that I used to feel guilty for
remain vague if American society is to be
the specially privileged that they deserve
the feelings of dissatisfaction and confu-
tional system in the United States as a
= 62
Schooling enhances and hones those abil-
viewed as classless and egalitarian! In ac-
privilege and have earned the right to suc-
sion that would strike me just when | was
tuality, schooling tracks you into various
cess and special treatment.
supposed to be so happy. I know that |
levels of the socioeconomic hierarchy, de-
am not alone in this contradiction.
pending on which school you attend.
cause, though they allow People of Color
(Haven't you ever wondered why job appli-
to participate, they remain invested in
What is education anyway? It is usually
I call these colleges “white elitist” be-
maintaining a class, economic, racial, and
sexual hierarchy with able-bodied white
DENISE TUGGLE
ges
corporate middle-to-upper-class men on
top. Though they allow token participation,
the actual number of People of Color is
kept at a relatively small percentage of the
The Art of
Education
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63 —
college campuses across the country dur-
herst, Dartmouth, Brown, and MIT. It is a
ple in control—professors and administra-
ing the last few years. Look back in the
common saying at Bryn Mawr that the
tors—are somehow always white. These
newspapers and you will see that most of
school teaches you to be a white man,
contradictions are what I think has caused
the outbreaks happened at prestigious
which I always thought was funny, since |
the outbreak of racial dissatisfaction on
campuses such as Smith, Stanford, Am-
have never wanted to be one, but I do
community, and the vast majority of peo-
Heresies 25
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to
cause we will “fit in well” at such-and-such
want security and not to be discriminated
social rareness probably IS the specific
against. In American society, that is a privi-
overt conscious reason | was accepted, |
school, which implies that we won't make
lege reserved for white men.
think that there are larger sociological
white students, professors, and adminis-
forces at play here. I have noticed some
trators confront their white-skin privilege.
instead of writing about it, someone usu-
rather remarkable similarities in all the very
We will not question the very fundamental
ally breaks in about this time and says that
different Students of Color | have met in
purpose of the college in perpetuating
I don't know what | am talking about be-
lvy League circles.
When I am talking about this subject
cause “Look, there are more nonwhites
For example, | began asking American
White Supremacy. In fact, many of us,
when we have problems, will attribute
here than there were twenty years ago. So-
Students of Color, at random, three
them to our own laziness, poor time man-
ciety is changing and growing, and why
questions:
agement, and/or stupidity, just like white
are you here anyway if you feel this way?”
This is a specific example of the hegemonic process in action. Remember, nothing is going on, and we deserve success. |
1. Is your neighborhood at home mostly
white?
2. Was your high school mostly white?
3. Are either of your parents white?
find it interesting that | occasionally get
this reaction from People of Color as well
For many of the People of Color | have
met outside Ivy League circles, these are
as whites.
really bizarre questions. However, among
—
people. If we fail, it is because we did
poorly, not because the institution is oriented toward a white middle-class existence, which often relegates us to the role
of Other. Many Black students have but
J Dv rm © mN rmm » >» wv a
little historical knowledge of their heritage
or a romanticized notion and/or selective
memory.
the students at white elitist colleges, the
vast majority have answered yes to at /east
two out of these three questions! Before |
came to college, | had met only one other
Black person with a white parent, and yet
Yo what is going
—— 64
t is important to
in the school year 1988—89 at Bryn Mawr,
on for Students of Color anyway? It is not
at least ten out of the forty-seven Black
look at the exceptions resulting from the
enough to say that we are all Oreos, Ba-
American women had a white parent. The
three questions. The responses of Asians
and Caribbeans follow a pattern, which
nanas, and Apples—that is, brown, yellow,
point is, even if we are not whitewannabes,
and red on the outside and white on the
a large part of our social orientation has
inside—because not all of us are, at least
been white-defined. In short, many of the
practices at work. One does not have to
not consciously. Why was |, a loud, proud
People of Color who choose and get ac-
alienate oneself and one's culture if one's
brings me to another aspect of hegemonic
culture can be fit into a white-defined
Black woman, accepted by all the schools
cepted to white elitist colleges are pro-
to which I applied, including three Seven
foundly white-identified. This is a dialec-
mold. Many Asian cultures have their own
Sisters? It certainly wasn't my essay saying
tical relationship. Â
work ethic, which allows them to work
how great Malcolm X was, and how | want
On one level, schools are choosing the
to be like him! At first I thought it was
“whitest” People of Color to attend the very
more easily within the white-defined Protestant work ethic. One theory on why
significant numbers of Asian-Americans
simply because Black women who gradu-
schools that will train them further to main-
ate as valedictorians from New England
tain the white-dominated hierarchy. (This
have been successful in this educational
private schools are rare and that made me
is called being “successful” and “hard
system is that they do not have to give up
a pretty hot item. | truly don't believe that
working.”) We are told repeatedly that we
I would be here today if I had stayed at
are “special,” which implies “not like the
and Native American people do in order
Brewer Public High School.! Though my
rest of our people.” We are chosen be-
to “fit in.”
as much of their culture as Afro-American
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OU
Among Black people at Bryn Mawr and
it seems, are/were attracted to the idea of
Haverford I have noticed large percentages
the automatic respect derived from atten-
of Caribbean students. This is important
dance at the “right” school. Never mind
because there is tension in the Black com-
that this authority is based in class and
munity between Afro-American Blacks
race hierarchies.
especially women's colleges, have a lot to
and Caribbean Blacks.” The gist of the tension is that Caribbean Blacks tend to view
offer Women of Color, but if we go in blind,
then we are vulnerable to the profound
American Blacks as lazy and shiftless, and
pressures to “fit in,” and thus lose our-
American Blacks tend to view Caribbean
Blacks as stuck-up, cold, and money hun-
hite elitist wom-
gry. What appears to be happening is a
en's colleges are interesting phenomena,
cultural clash revealing that Caribbean
and not nearly so depressing as white
Black people have an ethic of their own,
elitist men’s or co-ed colleges. As l've said,
similar to the Protestant work ethic.^ Inter-
the point of a white elitist college is to in-
national students are another issue. They
doctrinate students with the feeling that
tend to come from the ruling or upper-
they are important and deserving of au-
middle classes of their country and there-
thority. This seems to me a great message
fore have a class identification that is often
to give to women and especially Women
viewed as the key to “helping them
of Color! So in among the classist, racist,
to adjust.”
sexist, homophobic messages of white
The other part of this dialectical rela-
n the final analysis, I believe that white elitist institutions,
elitist women's institutions, there is an em-
selves. | still want security, and I don't think
l or anyone should have to sacrifice one's
struggle! X
self or culture for it. Join me in the good
1| transferred to a private school and took two senior years because Reaganomics messed up my
Social Security. See, it would pay for an extra year
of high school but not my first year of college. Ironically, | graduated first in my private school class
with the same grades that had put me in only the
top 20 percent of my public school class.
^In response to “Are either of your parents white?”
one Puerto Rican man said, “Yes, both of them.
Puerto Ricans are white.” A nearby friend of his
wanted to know why I was asking such questions,
tionship is that white-identified People of
powering subversion possible, but not in-
Color are more likely to pick white elitist
evitable. For Women of Color this right to
colleges than People of Color who identify
authority is a very important message, be-
with their own culture.” For example, when
cause in this racist patriarchal society we
I was looking at colleges, my counselor
have been taught to get our strongest iden-
told me point blank, “Denise, women get
tification from our racial culture.. If we view
a better education at women’s colleges
our strength and support as coming solely
cestors experienced a different history in the Car-
and Black people get a better education
from our ethnic culture, then we will be
States.
at Black colleges, so you should apply to
and are vulnerable to the sexism of men.
and my Puerto Rican friend got very angry at my
explanation. “Look,” he said, “I am not conforming
to anyone! My philosophy on life is he who dies
with the most toys wins!” He turned his back on me
in a huff when | pointed out that such a statement
fits beautifully into white middle-class yuppiedom.
` Afro-American Blacks’ ancestors were brought
straight over from Africa. Caribbean Blacks’ an-
ibbean before choosing to come to the United
^ Afro-Americans’ work ethic takes second place to
some of both.” Terror ran through me at
(Compulsory heterosexuality and patri-
the mere thought of going to a Black col-
archy know no color lines.) For Women of
lege. When | got to Bryn Mawr, | was sur-
Color, learning to value ourselves as wom-
the many problems that have become part of our
historical and cultural experience as a result of
once being America’s slaves, and to the white atti-
prised to hear from friends how their
en gives us perspective both on our rela-
parents had actually forbidden them to
tionships to Men of Color and to women
apply to Black colleges. Parental disap-
with white-skin privilege. It is unfortunate
tudes and social structures that persist even today.
This seems to be true among white people also,
proval was the second most frequently
that it is so often white-identified Women
cited reason for not going to a Black col-
of Color who get to participate in this pro-
lege. The first reason was an amorphous
cess, since ethnically identified Women of
fear of an all-Black educational setting.
Color could do so much more with this
Like myself, many young People of Color,
empowerment.
but it is much more subtle, because so many
65 —
Euro-Americans have lost so much of their past
and identify themselves as just “white.” Ethnicity
among white people seems to be something to be
overcome.
Denise Tuggle graduated from Bryn Mawr College in the spring of 1989. She currently supports herself as a life model but will be moving
into the field of social work in the fall of 1990.
Heresies 25
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igı
th
fru
libi
ph
she
hel
OVE
pel
A r t
social, political, and economic factors and integrating
Two questions must be asked of any program in art
the findings into artmaking practice is rarely taught in
education: Does it give students the tools with which to
make significant visual statements, and does it provide
SHEILA PINKEL
art departments. It is assumed that art education con-
them with the ability to decipher, function in, and con-
sists of learning a complement of techniques; rarely
tribute to the world around them? In seeking answers |
does this process include exploration of ideas through
have located two subject areas that are not currently
personal observation and research. What is particu-
included in most art school curricula: 1) practice in
larly distressing about this fragmented situation is that
integrating personal observation and analysis of con-
from the very beginning of their education, students
temporary society into the activity of artmaking and 2)
are taught to be powerless and disenfranchised and
discussions about the changing relationship of the art-
are not given the tools to go beyond the veneer of ap-
ist to the culture.
pearances to gain more depth of insight.
How to form a picture of culture through a study of
Most of my students do not have the ability to reThe Art of
Education
— 66
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search a subject and form a picture of the emerging
reality. When asked to investigate, they exhibit extreme
ignorance about how to proceed, and their explorations are pallid and lack passion. I have become increasingly concerned that this lack of passion and this
inability to develop a personal perspective are symptoms
of a nonworking educational system. A course that inte-
disenfranchisement through disinformation. When she
reexamined advertisements of the happy family of workers and customers, she began to understand the gap
between the veneer of the public image and the impenetrable monolith of the corporation itself. She had not
set out to find this. She had simply wanted to take pictures at a restaurant.
grates personal observation and library research with socioeconomic and political analysis would provide art
students with an opportunity to expand the ways in which
they “know” about the world.
Personal observation, experience, and subsequent
practice in forming an artwork based on that experience
constitute the crucial learning. Itis only through students’
willingness to encounter the world for themselves and
pay attention to their experience in the process that they
can really learn how to research for themselves. In the
middle of this learning process students often feel overwhelmed and confused, but this is a crucial part of the
In another instance I asked my students to make portraits of administration, faculty, students, and maintenance staff at the school where | teach. Each person
photographed was asked to write about her/his hopes,
dreams, and greatest fears. We assembled the final text
and images into a book, which was then xeroxed and
distributed to participants. This project gave students an
opportunity to interface with the various strata of persons at the school and find out something more about
them. The students learned about working together on a
project and discovered that the finished book made visiblea broader reality than any individual's work generated.
learning, part of the adventure of not knowing and trying
to understand. Ultimately, new recognitions emerge as
Explorations like those discussed above must be accompanied by classes that expand the student's poetic,
well as an appropriate final form that can adequately
intuitive self, the ultimate goal being to develop an inte-
communicate the emerging insights. In my experience,
grated person with a frame of reference from which to
unless students practice this process in school, they don't
identify the things she/he values. It is through the devel-
learn how to do it later on, and the symbols and images
opment of the spirit of each person that truly synthetic
they select remain conventional.
art education can be achieved. A love of form and of
Several years ago | taught a class in which students
were asked to choose a subject, study it for a semester,
photograph it, and finally make an artwork reflecting their
beauty and a knowledge of harmony, balance, and the
interrelatedness of the beings and elements of this world
are crucial to the full growth of the individual artist.
understanding and attitudes. Initially the students were
frustrated because they did not have any idea how to do
library research, how to investigate a subject in depth.
One student selected a fast food chain to study and
photograph. On her first day of photographing she found
she was not allowed ïhside the fast food restaurant with
sonal issues, and at times making work that has a social
Angeles. In the process she learned that no one knew
who was responsible for the rule against photographing.
ely
igh
CU-
She then asked about the corporate structure and
again could get no clear response. She started talking
with workers at the individual facilities and discovered
that they did not know anything more than their own job.
They had no idea where the cows were bred, grazed, or
slaughtered, where the buns came from, or anything
about the corporate structure. They certainly didn't know
nts
that land in Central America is deforested so that cattle
nd
can be grazed for fast food chains in Europe and the
ap-
ponsive to cultural concerns, working at times on per-
use.
person to ask, she was told to call Chicago, which she
on-
life. It is crucial that art education include a discussion
of the integration of the two, which includes staying res-
she could get permission to do her project. After calling
did, only to discover that they in turn told her to call Los
tin
classroom. Today art activity is seen as isolated from daily
her camera. I told her to call the corporate office to see if
over twenty people, none of whom could identify the right
ing
The relationship of the artist to the culture and to the
larger fabric of her/his own life is rarely discussed in the
U.S. Nor did they think about the wage structure that
results in economic benefits for management and investors only. She began to understand the extent of their
In this regard | find that books such as Cultures in
Contention, edited by Douglas Kahn and Diane Neumaier,
The Lagoon Cycle by Helen and Newton Harrison, The
New Photography by Frank Webster, and Ways of Seeing
by John Berger are useful in generating a dialogue about
the relationship of the artist to the culture.
We can no longer afford to offer an education experience that leads to a passive, impotent relationship with
culture and to alienation from our own voices. Students
need to learn the tools for making significant, challenging statements and to function as individuals in a complex world. My hope is to prepare students to negotiate,
question, and comment upon this world. E
Sheila Pinkel is an artist and chairperson of the photography
program at Pomona College. She is an international editor of
the art/seience publication Leonardo and is on the national
board of the Society for Photographic Education.
—— £9
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s RRRA
Sara Pasti The Library, 1990, litho crayon on lexan.
68
On Learning and Criticism
KAREN J. BURSTEIN
The Art of
Education
EE
N
t
v
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argaret has her
argaret Lucas Cav-
Ladies: Beauty,
endish tosses in
her bed. Outside
Love, Wit, Vertue,
Happy, and so many oth-
the birds sing, and their
high-pitched sounds
ers. They drink wine in
carry through the still morning air, over the window
Margaret’s dreams, and then they win wars, woo
sill, and to the ears of Margaret. Margaret puts the
men and women both, do heroic deeds, and orate
bird sounds in her dreams, though she never
with tremendous wisdom. Margaret stays with her
remembers them upon awakening.
Ladies in her chambers. The wine is spilled on the
And now Margaret wakes. Her eyes pop open and
she stares, first at the ceiling, blue in the early light
bed and the orations are on parchment.
Margaret’s chambers are in England. Her Ladies
of dawn, then outside the window, where the
are there on the wine-soaked bed. They are also in
birds sing.
France, where Margaret once served the Queen Hen-
She seems to remember something she must do.
rietta Maria when the court was in exile there. Mar-
Vague, in a further corner of her mind it is there, like
garet was a Lady to the Queen, a Lady-in-waiting,
the dreams she never remembers. Yawning sofily and
although thought dull and stupid by the court be-
rubbing her eyes, Margaret tries to find the thought.
cause she never raised her eyes or conversed. As a
She sits for a moment on the edge of her bed. The
child Margaret had been so protected by her family
floor is cold, and on first contact with it she mutters,
that she was shy with strangers and did not know
“The Comical Duchess,” quietly to herself, then
aloud, as she reaches for the bell on her bedside table.
In a moment she is up, standing on the chill floor.
how to behave at court. She wore dresses of her own
design, ignoring fashion, and was thought to be eccentric as well as dull.
She wonders if she should check the fire in her hus-
Two women in a still chamber at dawn, features
band’s chamber, for the air is damp, and as William
softened by sleep and the blue-yellow air, hair half-
ages, the changes in weather affect his health more
brushed and wildly loose about their shoulders, writ-
and more. But she knows that he has been awake
ing. Sarah drawing the quill furiously across the pages
until the early hours of the morning himself, writ-
in long and delicate motions, as Margaret bears verse
ing, and that the fire is surely fine.
at alarming speed. It is the year 1668.
Margaret is brushing her long, dark hair as Sarah,
her maid, enters. The ring of Margaret's bell had in-
ilary has been in the library today, the
truded into her dream. All that Sarah remembers
same library from which Virginia
about her dream is the pasture, and that she was on
Woolf was barred not so many years
horseback, and a bell called her, loud and reverber-
ago. Hilary finds an essay by Virginia
Woolf in a collection called The
ating across the fields. She rode fast to its source,
pulled as if to a magnet.
“Aah, good Sarah,” Margaret greets her. “It was a
strange thing. I woke with the Comical Duchess in
Common Reader, and Hilary likes it especially. It is
called “The Duchess of Newcastle,” and Hilary reads
it twice.
my head and might bring her to life. And also a commitment I must have, for I seem to recall one. Do
you know what that might be?”
“Yes, Lady. Tea with Mister Critik this afternoon.”
“Why, of course. Tea with dear Mister Critik. Oh
my, must I be ridiculed this day? By the by, we shall
see. But let us begin, for Fame’s High Tower is
waiting!”
And as Margaret dictates, Sarah writes swiftly, pausing occasionally to allow her Lady time to mull over
the positioning of words and phrases.
“Sarah! I shall name this A Comedy of the Apocry-
...there was a wild streak in Margaret, a love of finery and extravagance and fame, which was for ever upsetting the orderly arrangements of nature |p. 103].
Margaret could apply herself uninterruptedly to her writing. She
could design fashions for herself and for her servants. She would
scribble more and more furiously with fingers that became less
and less able to form legible letters [p. 106].
One cannot help following the lure of her erratic and lovable
personality as it meanders and twinkles through page after page.
There is something noble and Quixotic and high-spirited, as well
as crack-brained and bird-witted, about her. Her simplicity is so
open; her intelligence so active; her sympathy with fairies so true
and tender. She has the freakishness of an elf, the irresponsibility
of some non-human creature, its heartlessness, and its charm [pp.
111-112).
phal Ladies!”
Margaret brings to life, not only the Comical Duchess, but also the Unfortunate Duchess, the Lady True
Honour, and the Duke of Inconstancy.
Here Hilary pauses. The description of Margaret Cavendish has disintegrated from “noble” to “some nonhuman creature.”
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“I must find out more.” Hilary spends the afternoon and evening in the library and discovers pieces
of Margaret Lucas Cavendish hidden among the
stacks and rows of pages: two volumes of her dramatic verses, Playes (1662) and Plays Never Before
a second-story window. Hilary thinks she can make
out two women, hair loose and wild about their
shoulders. But the heat of the fire wafts over the
image and it is gone.
The sun will soon be fully risen. Hilary has walked
Printed (1668). The hand-cut parchment is yellow and
all night, journeying from the library where Marga-
bound in worn leather. The portraits of Margaret have
ret Lucas Cavendish hid among the pages to this
been torn away from the front of each volume.
The prologues, epilogues, and dedications are
soaked with justifications and apologies. For
stone house where, centuries before, she used
to live.
And now the fire from inside that second-story
room consumes the blue-yellow air outside its win-
example:
All the materials in my head did grow. All is my own, and nothing
do I owe: Be all that I desire as when I die, My memory in my
own works may lye [“A General Prologue to all my Playes,” Playes].
I pass my time rather with scribbling than writing, with words
than wit, not that I speak much, because I am addicted to contemplation [A True Relation of the Birth, Breeding, and Life of Margaret
Cavendish, p. 297).
dow and travels down the drying leaves of the oaks.
Encircling Hilary, the flames fuel themselves with
pages of Lady Cavendish that have yet to be written.
Hilary joins the flame in a consummation surpassing the boundaries of'time, because, she realizes, they
do not exist.
[Playes]...tire me with their empty words, dull speeches, long parts,
ister Critik is ten
tedious Acts, ill Actors; and the truth is, there is not enough variety
in an old play to please me...this Play was writ by a Lady, who on
feet tall, and his
my Conscience hath neither Language, nor Learning, but what is
native and natural [“An Introduction,” Playes].
eyes sweep Fame’s
High Tower. His eyes are
Again Hilary pauses. “What is language and learning
only to be hushed by those around her.
Hilary reads some of Margaret’s plays—The Convent of Pleasure and Nature’s Three Daughters and one
called Pieces of a Play, which is just as long as any of
the others. She also reads the criticisms of them:
the broom that cleanses
the Tower ofits dust, or what they see to be dust,
even when the dust is sparkled confetti. Mister
Critik likes neither sparkles nor confetti amid the
grayness of his decor. One shade of color, whether it
be gray or black or burgundy. For him, a brightly lit
party subverts the true nature of life. “Reason!
Her works frequently do not meet even the loosest standards of
fictional probability and sometimes are incoherent... her printed
works are marred by errors of grammar and syntax, erratic punctuation and eccentric spelling [McGuire, p. 203].
“Fictional probability,” Hilary repeats the phrase several times to herself. “What a contradiction,” she
says aloud and is again hushed by those around her.
Reason! Reason!” he shouts from his balcony. He
must watch the way he leans, for the railing is loose.
“They have told me to lay out the table with prunes
and water,” he claims, “and thus I have.” And tea,
for it is tea-time and a guest is expected.
Only half-expecting the Lady Cavendish to make
an appearance (for she is, by choice, a recluse), Mis-
She reads on:
ter Critik prepares a dose of prune tea, which he
The Duchess was entirely devoid of any dramatic instinct. In all
her plays there is hardly a single character with any semblance of
life: her characters are mere abstractions, qualities, and humours,
uttering the fantastic speeches and quaint conceits which she loved
to write [Firth, p. xxvii].
= 70
The stream of patronizing words continues, but Hilary’s interest is sparked.
does not quite finish gulping down before the front
door gives notice. The man feels slightly askew and
hurriedly stows his prune tea in a cupboard, next to
and slightly behind a volume of criticism. Just as the
Duchess of Newcastle, the Lady Margaret Lucas Cavendish, breezes in, with all the grace ofa fairy misplaced from the stage, he closes the glass door and
turns. “My, she is beautiful,” Mister Critik thinks, not
ilary walks among the oak trees and
stares at the enormous stone house
for the first time.
Bashfully, yet with a certain aura of confidence, the
nearby. The curve of the balcony is
Lady steps to the right, allowing someone, apparently
strong and perfect. She sees herself in
a companion, to pass. Mister Critik catches the prune
an earlier time as a Great Lady,
tea just as it travels back up his esophagus.
pensively or blissfully gazing at the landscape from
Margaret’s friend is surely a woman, though Mis-
one of those balconies. She moves closer to the
ter Critik is daunted and appalled by her costume.
house. The dim light ofa fire glows across the sill of
She wears trousers, like a man, and boots that fasten
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just above the ankles. She wears an odd-looking shirt
of a loosely knitted assortment of colors and tex-
But Mister Critik will not admit this, even to himself. And so he smiles.
tures, which stops just short of her hips. The woman’s hair is cropped about the ears, and the whole
usk falls -due to Mister Critik dulling the
effect is somewhat bewildering. “Another character
flame with his eyes, sweeping the
from a drama of questionable ingenuity,” thinks Mis-
sparkles off Fame’s High Tower and
| ter Critik, who has been told that he is good at think-
absorbing them into the black hole of
| ing. “Surely the Lady Cavendish dreamt her up.”
his decor. Someday the vacuum might
“Lady Cavendish, my dear Duchess, I am unspeakably pleased to receive you as my guest. And, of
course, this pleasure extends to your companion.”
“I return the pleasure, Mister Critik, and would
like to introduce you to my new friend, Hilary. Hilary is unfamiliar with this part of our world, and so,
to educate her, I have invited her to join us. I trust
spit them back out again, or perhaps somebody will
enter and find them. The latter seems more likely.
Hilary must return to the library; she has work to
do. Margaret must go to rest in her Tower. She will
find a place to hide amidst the pages. Margaret hands
Hilary a volume of'writing she dared not give to Mister Critik. The two embrace before they part.
that poses no problem.”
“By all means, no,” says Mister Critik, and motions for the two women to sit on the sofa by the
fire. Mister Critik follows: he always follows his guests.
Mister Critik cannot sleep and gulps prune tea, inebriating himself. In this state he attempts to feed
the liquid to the manuscript of plays given him by
the Duchess. But the manuscript won’t drink and
instead gets stained a bloody burgundy and drips
ady Cavendish wears a gown
of rose-colored taffetta
trimmed with black lace, lowcut across the bosom and
flowing at the wrists. Her hair
is piled extraordinarily over her brow, tendrils
hanging along each temple in perfect curls. When
she turns to Mister Critik and hands him the latest
volume of her dramas and one of her poems, he
smiles, accepting them both with the utmost honor,
onto the gray carpet. Panicked, he thinks ofa way to
protect the carpet and sofa, for his things are expensive. Like a suckling child, he brings the manuscript
to his mouth, but more quickly than he is able to
suck the red liquid, the flame leaps from the fireplace, drying everything. He continues sucking, inhaling the dried flakes of prune tea, then the carpet,
the sofa, the manuscript, and eventually even the fire
itself.
Thus dies Mister Critik, consumed by the flame
Or SO it seems.
he had always ignored.
Much later he says (aside), “Your fairy poems are
in the league of Herrick and Mennis, perhaps even
Shakespeare. But your dramatic verses are horren-
argaret sleeps soundly and
dous—no sense of the three unities or of decorum.
Mister Critik dies painfully and
And one S-shaped verse, even if it exists, which I
Hilary awakes. Hilary’s eyes pop
open. In front of her are rows
highly doubt, would compose an entire scene.”
and stacks of books, dull brown
And the Lady Cavendish, thrice noble and illustrious Duchess of Newcastle, responds (not so aside),
in the fluorescent light. Imprinted on the pages of
“I did much pleasure and delight these Playes to
Margaret Lucas Cavendish’s writing seems to be an
make; For all the times my Playes a making were, My
image of her own face. She feels the burn of for-
brain the stage, my thoughts were acting there.”
gotten words branded into her flesh.
71 —
The man has no response to give, and so he smiles
It is late. The security guards pass through the
and offers more tea. He himself goes without, await-
building, reminding people that soon the doors will
ing the moment of the women’s departure when he
close. Vowing never to get trapped inside—or
will have the opportunity to finish the prune tea
outside—a building. Hilary packs up her things. But
stowed behind his volume of criticism in the glass
first she writes a list and tucks this list into a volume
cupboard. For he knows that if he and Margaret were
of writings she did not have upon entering the library:
alone on a desert island, and Margaret made coco-
Description of a New World by Margaret Lucas Caven-
nut faces with three eyes and no nose and dried milk
dish, Duchess of Newcastle. Though it was published
for a mouth, she would be living by her imagination,
in 1668, the pages are white and unwrinkled. List and
and the art rules of coconut face-making would be
book among her belongings, Hilary is now ready to
as the snow is to the tropiċs.
leave.
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BIBLIOGRAPHY
Cavendish, Margaret Lucas, Duchess of Newcastle (1623-1673).
CCXI Sociable Letters, London, 1664.
——. Grounds of Natural Philosophy, London 1668.
. The Life of William Cavendish, Duke, Marquis, and Earl
of Newcastle, Earl of Ogle, Viscount Mansfield, and Baron of
Bolsover, of Ogle, Bothal and Hepple, &c., London, 1675.
. Nature’s Pictures Drawn by Fancie’s Pencil to the Life,
London, 1656, 1671. (The first edition of which contains A True
Relation of the Birth, Breeding, and Life of Margaret Cavendish,
written by Herself.)
. Observations upon Experimental Philosophy to which is
added the Description of a New World, London, 1666, 1668.
. Orations of Divers Sorts, London, 1662, 1668.
——. Philosophical and Physical Opinions, London, 1655, 1663.
. Philosophical Fancies, London, n.d.
——. Philosophical Letters, or Modest Reflections upon some
Opinions in Natural Philosophy maintained by several learned
authors of the age, London, 1664.
. Playes, London, 1662 (contains twenty-one plays).
. Plays Never Before Printed, London, 1668 (contains five
Lewisburg, Pa.: Bucknell University Press, 1980.
Firth, C.H., ed. Memories of the Duke of Newcastle. London: Routledge; New York: E.P. Dutton & Co., n.d.
Gagen, Jean. “Honor and Fame in the Works of the Duchess of
Newcastle.” Studies in Philology, July 1959: 519—538.
Gorgeau, Angeline. The Whole Duty of a Woman. New York:
Doubleday, 1985.
Grant, Douglas. Margaret the First. London: Rupert Hart-Davis, 1957.
Hampsten, Elizabeth. “Petticoat Authors: 1660-1720.” Women’s
Studies 7 (1980): 21-28.
McGuire, Mary Ann. “Margaret Cavendish, Duchess of Newcastle,
on the Nature and Status of Women.” International Journal of
Women’s Studies, 1:2: 193-206.
Morgan, Fidelis. The Female Wits: Women Playwrights of the Restoration, London: Virago, 1981.
Paloma, Dolores. “Margaret Cavendish, Defining the Female Self.”
Women’s Studies 6 (1979): 411-422.
Perry, Henry Ten Eyck. The First Duchess of Newcastle and Her Husband as Figures in Literary History. (Harvard Studies in English,
vol. 4). Boston, London: Ginn & Co., 1918.
Woolf, Virginia. “The Duchess of Newcastle.” The Common Reader.
New York: Harcourt, Brace & Co., 1925. x
plays).
. Poems and Fancies, London, 1664, 1668.
Karen J. Burstein wrote this essay while a student at Hamp-
. The World’s Olio, London, 1655, 1671.
shire College in Amherst, Mass. It is a response to the deletion
Cotton, Nancy. Women Playwrights in England, c. 1363—1750.
of women writers from the canon.
INA)
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Critics
AMY EDGINGTON
2
1
Critics say my collages are not fine art,
As I see it, what I'm here to do
just bits and pieces of other people’s work.
is to tell the truth
But I say that artists always borrow,
in any voice it wants to use—-
and if they borrow well,
a song, a howl, or a whisper.
when we view their work
The hardest thing about art
we will always feel
is just to do it without question.
a thrill of recognition,
To be an artist means to dare
as we see something familiar
to paint and write lots of bad stuff
that we have never seen before.
that is only fit for the compost heap
Critics say my poems are not well crafted,
but I say that it was never my intention
(but nothing beats compost for starting seeds).
Being udged an artist in this world
to be artful or crafty,
means only showing the people
not if that has anything to do
who have power and money
with the straight-laced teachers I had in school,
exactly what they want to see.
who refused to look at emotions,
And how original is that?
unless I dressed them like fancy dolls
It’s the oldest trick in the book,
if not the oldest profession.
Nothing naked, p/eave, and certainly no genitals!
I use criticism when it’s useful.
So please don’t tell me to take art lessons
or creative writing courses.
One poet friend said to me:
I don’t have the time or money,
This poem is too short
and I have no room to internalize
to say all you want it to say.
academic opinions: my head is too full
She was right, and I went on
of my own ideas that demand to be seen and heard
to write a much better, longer poem.
like anybody else’s children.
This was good advice: not telling me
Anyway, I never learned art in school.
what to write about or how to do it,
I learned that only silence
or implying that I'd never get it right
will satisfy every critic.
because I lacked some inherent talent,
But I failed to find silence
or that really s/e could say it
bearable.
better than I ever could.
At its best, though, criticism
is always a very sharp tool:
May 1987
remember never to offer or grasp
the blade instead of the handle.
73 —
At its worst, criticism becomes
a self-serving authority figure,
a nosy landlord living inside our heads,
getting rich on our fear and self-doubt.
He peeks in our windows when we are naked;
he knocks on our door at midnight,
demanding we pay the back rent;
then he says we’re no good anyway
and threatens to kick us out in the cold.
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Beatın
EMMA AMOS
BEATING THE ODDSFORBA,BFA,
ANDMFAART MAJORS.
Fewer than five out of 100 art school graduates are making art ten
years later. That's a lousy statistic. Despite the many artists we know,
see, and read about, there are enormous numbers more who educated
themselves to be artists but gave up somewhere along the way.
MOVE to a city with galleries, museums, and art hools.
LIVE with or marry an artist. Two can cover more ground
than one.
LEARN to eat and live VERY cheaply.
KEEP up with your classmates. Exchange names and
GET financial aid from doting parents, aunts, family friends.
addresses, including parents’ addresses in case of moves:
FIND work in a job that allows some flexibility in hours, such
KEEP a file of artists’ colonies, summer programs, and
as sales, framing, gallery sitting, conservation, or design.
people who can and will write good references for you.
y y
MAKE time to make art. Get up early on Saturdays and
Sundays and work from 9:00 to 3:00 before doing shop-
Dont
ping, laundry, etc. NO EXCUSES!
MAKE a weekly appointment to go to galleries,
museums, experimental dance, theatre.
CREATE a group of artist friends to exchange studio
DON’T walk your slides around to galleries. Youll get
TAKE slides of your work every three months. Take at least
„ adozen shots of each work so you don't have to make
copies right away. Keep your résumé up to date. Mail your
too discouraged. Send them.
DON’T stay in the same dead-end job for more than a
year. Nowthat.you’ve established an artmaking rhythm,
\Show young, unknown artists. Send a SASE for their return.
APPLY for scholarships to the good summer art schools.
you neéd to 'addrėss- lifetimegoals. Prepare to start training
fof a specific jöBExamples:.Graduate school for teaching,
conservatiónmuseŭin Work. Grad school or special classes
GET accepted to three group shows your first year out.
for, SPNA textile ‘design, industrial design, computer
art, display.”
CURATE a show—including your own work, of course
DON’T wait until the last term of school to plan for
—and find an organization to host the show for free. Invite
your art career.
your friends, the press, and galleries.
DON’T call your old professors, the art office, or the
JOIN the College Art Association. Great job listings.
LOOK in art magazines and newspapers for pertinent
articles, opportunities, and grant listings.
APPLY for your home-state's artists grants as soon as
you're eligible.
MATCH your work to the galleries and curators 'who
show work that seems responsive to your own. Get on their
mailing lists and GO TO ALL THEIR OPENINGS.
dean to help you find a job at graduation.
DONT 1) livein a no-art town or 2) with an unsupportive
roommate, and (3) try not to live at home if at all possible.
DON’T overprice your work.
DON’T frame your work unless youw’re showing it at a
gallery with a chance for sales. Use reusable frames. Keep
your sizes uniform.
DON’T forget to make u iar and T pakab.
DON’T GIVE UR.
Nao)
Education
— 74
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, BUT THE SOMI
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desperate fear, grotesyue PY wrneyuty, and con tCtUy
RICHARD
e ) he chairman’s reputation was well established.
>»
Sre imagined her interview
with the chairman and considered
how she might best present herself.
IOO NBAVEDON
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e M
he knew the problems an interview entailed and Ow to edit her portfolio to make her work he imagined herself to be a model instructor...
wondered how she would maneuver. comprehensible to him?
COMPOSITION, CONTENT,
FEMINISM, FORMALISM,
MARXISM, MODERNISM ..….
~
J. 7
>»,
A Ow to come across without coming on?
Sin realized that the chairman did not share
her values. How could she communicate her
qualifications without her politics?
«An other aspects of her life by Leigh Kane
she found a variety of solutions to < : c ,
this problem. and Diane Lontius
Leigh Kane is an artist/activist/educator who teaches media studies at Carleton College near Minneapolis.
—— 7G
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> >»
H. know that the department was under Sre was intelligent, articulate, and determined.
pressure to hire a woman. He thought about the
prospect with some anticipation. It had been weeks
since his last affair.
>
: and hoped she could convince him
S was hungry for the job
of her skills.
Æ he job required extensive teaching experience,
an impressive exhibition record, willingness to work
with colleagues, and numerous departmental duties.
... capable of the varied Da she measure up to the
responsibilities of a expectations?
full-time position.
CL
HA alliances with others the activism, the women’s caucus,
offered her support and inspired the poster collective, the reading
L Art of group, the writing, the family,
i aeher: work.
: the
child, the lover... ?
Education
Diane Pontius is a photographer, video artist, and teacher currently living in Philadelphia.
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several years ago I decided to go to New
and apply the laws. Pull in, push in, lifi
York to study dance professionally. After
up—the desired image is definitely
teaching at a university, I was looking for-
male, androgynous at best, but never fe-
ward to being in an environment that
male with curves and roundness, which
values learning with the body and study-
are considered “appropriate only for the
ing in a field where women have been
Middle Eastern belly dancer,” our teach-
visible and important, historically. At the
er tells us. Such a contrast to the way Rina
same time, I was terrified. To my mind,
Singha spoke of her training in Indian
I did not fit the typical image of'a dance
dance in the video “Women in Asian
student, and at the age of thirty I had
Dance.” “We worked on two pieces,
never studied dance full time. After con-
four hours a day for six months, repeatsidering several studios, I finally chose
ing them over and over again, sometimes
the Nikolais/Louis Dance Lab because of
with slight variations and recitation of the
their belief that given time, work, and
rhythmic patterns. In this way the piece
guidance, anybody can learn to dance. I
and its timing became a part of our
was also impressed by the continuity of
body.” She then demonstrated one of
the school’s teaching staff, which spans
three generations of dancers, including
Nos of our education. You have already
Hanya Holm who is in her nineties and
learned enough. Now you must learn to
one ofthe pioneers of modern dance in
give up, to make room. It takes courage,
America. The following are journal ex-
but there is no other way.”
cerpts about my experience in the studio and my research on the history of
There is much to learn from the body,
women in dance.
and not just dance either. The physicality of our selves is basic to everything
I had my first class with Hanya and was
totally taken by her. “Mostly fear and familiarity,” she said, “that’s what keeps us
from doing. First we must undo all the
— 78
her practice pieces; it could not have
been more than five minutes in all. How
I long to train in this way, slowly repeating what we need to know from the inside. Our training is done much too
quickly, and we are not allowed the time
to really sense the place of movement
in the body.
we do, yet it is one of'the most neglected
aspects of our upbringing and education,
which often serve to trap the reflexes
and cauterize the instincts. Bringing
those back to life is, as I’m finding out,
This learning is difficult and painful,
physically and psychologically, as I touch
habits deeply embedded in my muscles.
Yet I've come to be grateful for the pain,
an excruciating process, physically and
psychically.
Briefly I felt my whole body thinking—a
moment of vibration or alertness, not
just in the head but in the legs, the torso,
the arms. A sense of radiating outward
from inner movement. A glimmer that
blood, muscle, and bone are knowledgeable and sentient: consciousness in the
curves of muscles, the rushing of blood,
the exchange of fluids and air. Cellular
knowledge ..….
In some ways the approach to the body
is very male: analyze, analyze, analyze,
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even to watch for it, because it means
my body,” I said. “Do not let your mind
changes are underway and sensation is
dominate your body,” she replied. “The
being developed.
mind is there to clarify what the body
will do. Trust your body.”
The deeper I go into women and dance
the more I recognize myself, get glimpses
More and more I am seeing/sensing how
of what has been lost but is still alive in
deeply we as women internalize the fact
my instincts and in the living layer of my
that our bodies are not our own, how
body. Yesterday I was reading about Ka-
deeply the colonization goes. What do
buki theater, where women are prohib-
we need to free ourselves from the in-
ited from formal participation despite
side? What are the conditions for the
the fact that they created the Kabuki
freedom of the body? It is as if we had
dance form. Predictably, this form was
to recompose our most basic posture to
taken away from them by men, and they
find the point or source ofall other pos-
were outlawed from their own creation.
sibilities.
Yet a germ of their sensibility remains in
the integrity of the form, the wholeness
Looking at one of the young women
ofthe dances, which do not fall into ab-
today and thinking, Yes, that’s me ten
straction. Here in the geste I had a mo-
years ago if only ... I have to be careful
ment of recognition, a tugging in my
not to fall into bitterness or pity. I am
body saying, Yes, we passed here, as I
where I am and there is nothing to do
remembered what has fallen into silence,
about that except work harder. Clean-
can no longer be said but is still en-
ing out channels, bones, tendons, liga-
trusted to the body.
ments, socket joints, hinge joints. Refin-
ishing the antique lovingly. x
Today speaking with Hanya I told her I
am confused about the relation between
Rachel Vigier lives and works in New York City.
She is currently at work on a collection of essays m
mind and body. “My mind doesn’t know
about women, dance, and the body entitled Ges-
what to do with itself when I listen to
tures of Genius.
79 —,
EĐ
á K A
ta
Ap
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JOAN HERBST SHAPIRO
his year I had the lucky experience of learn-
original compositions that refer to African and AfroAmerican cultures. Sometimes they combine diverse
elements, such as a contemporary rock song sungin
ing group Women of the Calabash.
the style of South African workers’ choirs. Their pre-
The shekere is a West African instrument that
sentation is a spectacular mix of percussive music,
comes from the Yoruba people of Nigeria. Used as a
vocals, movement, and dance.
powerful instrument to call spiritual forces, it is played
for religious ceremonies and occasions. The instru-
the audience to participate—“You'’re gonna clap your
ment is made from a hollowed-out gourd, or cala-
hands. You're going to sing and dance.” The liveli-
bash, which serves as a drum. Beads strung on a net
ness of the rhythms, with beautiful spacious melo-
encircling the gourd add a rattle sound:
dies spreading over all, is entrancing. Vocals complement percussive rhythms. Sometimes there is a dra-
DA dee DA dee DA dee, DA DA DA dee
matic rhythmic contrast between the first and sec-
DA dee DA dee DA dee, DA DA DA dee
ond parts of a song.
re
beat from the hollow interior of the calabash. The
that the musicians were members of'a class she taught
dee or che is a rattle sound created by the beads. The
called Egbe Omo Shekere (“Children of the Cala-
gourd is held semihorizontally between the player's
bash”). She said that the class met every Sunday in a
hands. As it is pushed by one hand and received by
West Village studio and that anyone could come. I
the other, the beads fly up and snap as they hit the
decided to go.
gourd. Che! The bass is sounded by either hand, hitting the calabash as it is thrust back and forth be-
cavernous Westbeth basement. I feel shy, yet I want
tween the player’s hands. Hearing the instrument
to connect to this music, so I join the circle of musi-
for the first time, I felt strongly drawn to its power
cians and stand up as part of the group. No one is
and energy.
more amazed than I. I am carried away. Clapping my
hands and stamping my feet I think that this music is
settings. Traditionally the instrument is used as
like ...yes, like pure affirmation. If ever I were seri-
backup in a group of drums. The original contribu— 80
ously sick, this music would heal me.
tion of Women ofthe Calabash is the use of'shekeres
played together as the featured instrument. In this
rapt. Introductions are informal, occurring after the
context one clearly hears both the rattle and bass
warm-ups that begin the class. We go around the
voices. At the time Women of the Calabash began
circle, calling out our first names. The attitude toward
playing, this was an untried idea. Its musical appeal
time and attendance is relaxed. Class is scheduled
can be measured by the fact that currently it has been
adopted by other musical groups.
from 11:30 A.M. to 1:00 P., but usually begins a little
late and runs on after 2:00. People come when they
nA
R
can and leave when they have to.
The music consists of complementary rhythmic
brates off the cement walls.
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N
vious learning experiences. When I ask Madeleine if
pressions as well as words, projecting enthusiasm or
the class is patterned on traditional African teaching
delight in the music, showing off skill, or miming
methods, she replies that she does not know. Essen-
sleepiness if the rhythm is flagging. She can be
tially she has developed her method of teaching in
clownish—imitating my overly serious expression
response to things she has found difficult in her own
until we break up laughing.
learning experiences. She says, “Most musicians have
endured a lot of put-down experiences, and they
teach that way.” In this class the flow of music is
never interrupted by criticism. No one is ever told
that they’re wrong. Someone just shows them something they can do while the music continues. There
is no testing, no putting people on the spot. Made-
her mother.
leine likes to create situations in which people can
The class is like a gift—the gift of a more life-
enjoy playing, whether it’s in the circle of the class
or at a low-key performance or through group participation in a parade.
Heresies 25
I8
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Classes are not sequential but rather an ongoing vious classroom experiences, in which students were
continuum in which beginners and experienced often pitted against one another. I found this class
players participate together. This permits people to both illuminating and healing—in contrast to “edugo at their own pace, to pick up as much as they can cational” experiences I’ve had elsewhere.
as fast or as slowly as they can. “When I first was learn- I believe that methods and systems of education
; _ ing,” Madeleine comments, “drummers would tell express the values of the people or cultures that creme, ‘Stand back and play the one.’ There’s so much ate them. The implicit value underlying most Ameri-
ego involved among musicians. It limits what they can education, it seems, is how to get ahead in the
are willing to show you.” She says that she is not material world in competition with everyone else
interested in students imitating her style but in giv- who is trying to get ahead. The spiritual basis of the
ing them a basic vocabulary of rhythms and patterns shekere class is unity, not competition. It is assumed
with which they can devise their own language. that when one joins the circle, he or she becomes
I strongly sense an intangible spiritual presence in part of the whole. Within that whole, each individ-
this class. While Yoruba tradition and spirituality ual is treated with deep respect, appreciation, and
aren't specifically discussed, they provide a founda- support. The class is founded on values of loving the
Kabuya P. Bowens The Final Call, 1989, gouache and m/m papers, triptych, each panel 12"x17". Photo: Glenn Saffo.
Presently working with the Studio in a School Association as an artist/instructor, Kabuya P. Bowen is also spending nine months as artist-in-residence at Longwood
(Bronx Council for the Arts). She is a native of Miami and has exhibited in both the New York and Miami areas.
tion for much of the music we play. music, having fun together, paying attention, develn The African model of music-making is commu- oping skills, and making a contribution. I would like
82 nal in its orientation. This differs from classical West- to see these values more prevalent in our society and
— ern tradition, which treats music as a highly special- learning situations.
s ized activity in which musicians and audience are Madeleine teaches because she really has somestrictly separated. As in African musical tradition, my
thing to give directly to people—she loves turning
shekere class is a social and participatory activity in
them on to the instrument. I go because I love the
which individual development is supported by the
music and want to connect to its power and energy.
group. IfI am doing well, I sense the appreciation of
It isn’t about getting ahead or competition or im-
the whole group. If I get lost, somêèone will smile proving one’s marketability or preparation for some-
from across the circle, catch my eye, and demon- thing. It’s about playing together. v
strate a rhythm I'can play. The first time this hap- si Joan Herbst Shapiro is an artist and environmental educator
: : : who lives in New York City. Her current work is concerned with
pened I was astonished. This experience of group healing our alienation from ourselves, one another, and the
support was strikingly different from most of my pre- natural/spiritual world.
The Art of
Education
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a sE [v4
AA
CAROL WOLFE KONEK
In 1987, during the three-week International Women’s Decade Forum and Con-
of several hundred people gathered
around them. Young men started asking
ference in Nairobi, several of us gathered
Dana questions about this ‘strange West-
at night to discuss all we had taken in
ern sexual practice. She told them she
throughout the day. We had listened to mi-
was a lesbian and talked about the emo-
grant women, refugee women, and women
in exile. We had listened to women out-
litical and cultural biases against the
preference. She was quite articulate. They
female circumcision. We talked late into
were fascinated.”
by revelations of atrocities that implicated
us all.
“And the police were there all this time?”
Billie asked.
sure nothing got out of control. And of
course they were also listening. At one
pened to Dana today. “Dame Nita Barrow
point they took several young men away.”
asked the women in the international les-
“Do you suppose the police detained
bian group to give up their booth. She said
forum, and no lesbian materials could be
handed out.”
“How can the conference censor anyone?” Billie asked.
“The women who were staffing the booth
didn't ask any questions. They just moved
their materials to the grassy square.”
Anna told us Dana had spoken for al- N
most five hours, that she was undaunted, D
that she was speaking from the heart of a
silence many women had occupied o
years. Dana became a liberator, a folk hero B
ping in to Dana's room to congratulate her.
My own thought was that she might now
be viewed as a threat.
“They were watching the crowd to make
One evening Anna came to the room
exclaiming, “You wor't believe what hap-
no lesbian issues would be debated at the
quired FBI files at the conference. |
tional basis for the preference and the po-
raged by sex tourism, bride-burning, and
the night, trying to resolve feelings evoked
City and later discovered that we had ac- 7
those men? Is is illegal to listen to such
discussions?” | asked, remembering my
friend Njinga’s story of his father's detention, the deplorable conditions in the jails,
and the impossibility of getting legal defense, whether guilty or innocent.
The next day I was attracted to a cluster
of animated people in the center of the Å
square, and | recognized the women from
the lesbian information booth. A young man N
politely inquired if he could ask me a ques- Viv.4
tion. | responded that he could. DO
“If you please, would you mind explain- | / SY
of life?” O
ing to me and ny friends this lesbian way S0%
I was charmed by the man's curious, Wy
courteous diction and realized that the de- WWZ%
Anna thumbed through Sisterhood /s
Global until she found the laws on homo-
fensiveness and hostility that might infuse W V
sexuality in the Kenyan chapter: “It is ille-
such a question posed by a Western man n
gal under the Penal Code (Sec. 162) to have
were absent in this man's demeanor. “I don't W
in the program. I wasn't surprised that the
carnal knowledge of any person against the
planners were worried about the response
order of nature and is punishable by four-
mind discussing this with you. What would A
you like to know?” By now there were fifteen N i
No lesbian workshops had been listed
j . | :
of the Kenyan government to this topic,
teen years imprisonment. The law does
considering the missionary influence on
not specifically mention lesbianism.” ..….
S : N E TNE SONSS a T SE S Be SA Eaa VERAZ T
v education. It had become increasingly apA| parent that every government had a vested
N interest in perpetuating its own form of female subordination and that the preservation of silence was essential to this
l purpose. “So what happened?” I asked.
“Anna, you must tell Dana to be careful,” I said, realizing as | spoke how cautious and conventional | sounded. But |
vividly recalled the Mexico City conference
in 1975 and ny first realization that many
governments see the women’s movement
d “Did the women object to their treatment?”
as a threat to nationalism. My companion
N “No. They sat passively on the ground
and | were certain we were being followed
group. |
or twenty young people, mostly men, but l N
also a few women, on the outskirts of the Y
“How is it that lesbians can make love?” ##(N
“They can make love as any two people || )
can make love.” v p
Several of the young men stifled their IVÆØS
laughter. “Oh, no, they can't,” said the L
leader.
I plunged ahead, determined to be gen- J
tle. “Making love is possible between any B
SSS
2 9 SN AN
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Alex Stavitsky Dominican Republic, June 1989, photograph.
~~
A
Alex Stavitsky Dominican Republic, June 1989, photograph.
/
ノレ Currently a photo asdistant, Alex Stavitsky wants to ude photography to cha llenge preconceived idead of femininity, politice, people, and their varioud cultured.
] She wad in Nicaragua for the 1990 electiond.
る WA
いく Sd, MN
0> 4OE( ANN
/
人
人
PAS
> VE
BN
Y KS UN SN WY
KA
y/
トト
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SVE
p believe that penetration is the most imporPIN tant part of the sex act.” I paused , hoping
they understood. There were several nods.
Y “But penetration is not always the most important or pleasing part of lovemaking for a
behind me seemed to be moving closer.
woman must be reacting to something.
“In our country there is often disrespect
between men and women. Daughters often
learn to fear their fathers and then also find
“You would ignore the matter of sin?”
asked the second man, speaking somewhat more aggressively than before.
“I am saying that love between two
j woman. In our culture there are many
they cannot depend on the respect of other
f Women who believe men äre too interested
men. Men in our culture sometimes make
l in penetration. Lovemaking goes too fast for
disgusting remarks to women in public
pounding of my pulse and of my anger at
| A the woman when the man is thinking only
places. We have music and movies that
the indoctrination of these men who had
1 of reaching his goal.” I paused again. “Is it
the same in your culture?”
“But without that, there is nothing,”
), added another man.
“A man's point of view may be different,
but think of making love from a woman's
point of view. Women like to be embraced.
They like to be held and caressed and to
feel that they are precious to the one who
loves them.”
“Yes, we know.”
“They like to speak and to be understood.
Some women tell me they are conquered,
; like territory—taken, without regard for their
feelings or their response.”
i| A man who had been silent spoke softly.
N “Yes I have heard women say so.”
! “While we are talking like this, there is
equate sex and violence, and there are men
who rape, brutalize, and sometimes kill
women. No woman in our culture is safe
from this violence.”
“In our culture some of these things are
happening, too.”
“I understand from talking to women at
this conference, | continued, that until recently a man had the right to beat his wife,
and that laws against wife-beating are not
always enforced, even now.”
Agreement from my listeners. “It is the
women cannot be a sin, that only violence K
can be a sin,” | concluded, aware of the
seemed so sweet and polite until I reached || a
the bedrock of their belief. V
When I met Billie and Anna in the Peace V
Tent at the end of the day, I confessed | A
now understood how Dana was compelled IW
to answer the questions of the Kenyans and N
that I too had become their instructor.
Anna hoped I hadn't gotten myself in V
trouble and began telling me about Dana's
experience that day. As Dana read announcements in the bulletin area, a woman
spoke to her. Never taking her eyes from
same in my country. We are a long way from
the board, the woman said “Do not look at
arriving at understanding between men and
or appear to talk to me. I heard your talk in
women. We are looking for ways to stop the
the public square. I know young women
violence and create understanding. Perhaps
who need your message, and yet there is
someday men will listen to women and try
no information in my country. If you could
to understand what they think, how they
send books and articles to this address, you
H something else I would like to discuss with
feel, and what they want.”
could save lives.” She tacked a note to the
v you,” I added, searching for tact. “In my
country women are often abused by men.
life-styles?” came the question.
WAN
I V
si Sometimes fathers do not value their daughters. Men beat their wives, and also their
children.”
“And then there will be no more lesbian
“No, no. There will still be lesbian life-
bulletin board and continued speaking. |
am a teacher in a school for girls. From
time to time close relationships develop
styles. When women are no longer territory
between the girls, perhaps love relationships
to be conquered or property to be owned,
...and the girls have no way of learning that
they will be free to love whomever they
their experience is not unique. Several times
please. Women will then be free to choose
there have been suicides, double suicides
more than once. It is very tragic. If I could
ence, | fear this is a problem everywhere.
choose, they will no longer be offended by
You ask me what lesbians do. What two
this choice.”
women do, | am told, for I am not a lesbian,
is to love each other with tenderness and
W concern for the pleasure of each other"
Ý “And this trouble between men and
i women ...you think it makes women prefer
N making love with other women?"
“What about religious and moral laws
which must be obeyed?” asked my first
questioner. | realized | was confronting a
very polite wall.
tell them there are books to read, books by
women who choose love, perhaps some of A
these girls could be saved” e
Anna and | wondered if there was a way
to send the books, if the woman receiving
them would be endangered. We knew there p
“Most religions teach the principles of
love and respect, and yet many marriages
was
censorship
andschool
felt that
a package
v
mailed
from one
to another
might
be opened by the authorities.
BI “No. Not necessarily. Women who love
are based on contempt and abuse. Moral-
d women are not rejecting men. They are lov-
ity would require that people are never re-
ing women because they find women beau-
quired to submit to intimacy with someone
H tiful and loving and interesting.”
who does not love and respect them.” Only
hollow in response. She said she was just J
now did I become uneasy that the guard
waiting to go home. Something was very,
B “But you think women are afraid of men?”
The next day I met Dana in the hall; |
asked for the latest news, but her voice was J
AZIZA
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very wrong. What had happened to this in-
with the freedom | felt in the square. With
does heroism reside? Heroic actions tran-
spiring, patient woman?
all those people around me, listening, | felt
scend despair, but the person who herself
“Saturday night, a block from here, I was
that the world was becoming a place where
is heroic doesn't always experience it that
mugged. A man grabbed me from behind,
everything could be spoken aloud. | felt so
way. Dana went home feeling defeated, but
twisted my arm behind me, and asked for
accepted for who I was. So loved by all the
her courage had an enduring effect on other
my money. | took it out of my pocket and
people who gathered around me. Then the
gave it to him. When he saw it was only
mugging. It was as though it was deliber-
twenty shillings, he was furious. He jerked
ate. As though I were being—”
my arm behind me, and as | looked over
“— punished for speaking?”
my shoulder, I saw a knife. Then he punched
“Yes, Silenced.”
me in the stomach.”
“Why didn't you tell us?”
“All the usual reasons. I had so many
feelings. I felt stupid. Responsible. You know
the list. | couldn't fight. It was as though |
I tried to convince Dana that it was most
likely random violence, not retaliation.
“But I feel diminished. It ruined my
courage.”
people, and I wanted to make something
of her experience that she may be unable
to.
There is also a beautiful political parable
in what occurred. We need to be aware of
the abuse we experience at the hands of
our sisters, the oppression we ourselves create for women. The action of the conference's conveners—excising all lesbian
“Your courage touched all those who
information from the official forum— served
| were a little girl again. As though | were a
heard you. Think how you changed lives
only to create a more powerful platform for
helpless three-year-old rather than who |
by speaking to them in their silence.”
the ideas and more motivation for lesbian
really am. /’m a marathon runner. I'm
Dana managed to say she would try to
spokespersons to rise to the challenge. In
an athlete. And ! let him hit me. | stood
hold on to that thought and that she hoped
trying to silence them, Dame Barrow suc-
there obediently and let him have my
the passage of years would make it easier
money.”
to focus on that aspect of the conference.
“You felt you should have fought back,
Has it? Victims of violence—whether eco-
and that since you didn't, you were
nomic, physical, or academic violence—
responsible?”
recover at different rates, though it has been
ceeded in giving them a greater voice. ¥
Carol Wolfe Konek is an associate dean and faculty member in the Center for Women’s Studies
at Wichita State University. She writes about the
international women’s movement, the women’s
/
peace movement, and women recovering from
"Maybe. And maybe this comes together
chemical dependencies
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Ai A,
l am incarcerated in a women's prison in
$
mon trend in all of the prison systems in
inhabit internal Diso will continue to
the United States, except for a very few
suffer unnecessarily. For a society that
which have not been seriously affected by
the need for AIDS education in the prison
system in order to bring an end to the cruel
The court systems generally uphold the
treatment of people with AIDS is a poor
D.O.C’s measures because of the antici-
showing of sincerity.
and barbaric treatment of those individuals
pated political outcry of a society that is
living in prisons who suffer from this deadly
equally uneducated about the facts of
disease.
the virus.
Instead of educating inmates and admin-
professes to be humane and interested in
the welfare of its citizens, the government's
New Jersey. I wish to bring to your attention
The author of this letter must remain anonymous
because the system referred to above has taken
drastic measures to stop all outside communication dealing with the subject of AIDS. This in-
At this writing there is just one female
istrators and staff about the facts of AIDS,
inmate confined to a Special Medical Unit
prisons allow rumors to be the only source
in the only female institution in the State of
of information. This hinders the treatment
New Jersey (this inmate is referred to as
of the inmates who suffer from AIDS and
Jane Doe in one specific case). However,
consequently increases the fear of prison-
in 1988 alone there were two deaths that
ers and staff. For example, upon entering
occurred as a result of the lack of proper
this women's institution, an inmate receives
medical treatment. These women were se-
one pamphlet that is highly outdated and
riously ill but were denied the “special medi-
contains obsolete information. At some time
cal treatment” that is reserved for “Jane
during an inmate's stay-at the institution a
Doe”—a woman who has been in complete
film is shown. This film does not include
remission from a bout with PCP in June
any medical information. It is a film made
1987. Both women who died were con-
by dying inmates in New York State's prison
firmed'to have been carrying the AIDS virus.
cludes the 24-hour lockdown for over a month of
the author herself for actively advocating exposure
of the system's treatment of AIDS inmates. The
author dedicates this letter to J.R., for her unbe-
lievable strength, courage, and determination,
which is her motivation to continue this fight.
Dear Folks
I'm buying my mother a subscription to
Heresies because she is somewhat clueless about the topics that your magazine
discusses. Please send her a little “gift
card” if you have them ...…. l'Il put it under
system, and in it the inmates make a final
It is a proven medical fact that isolation
plea to others not to follow in their footsteps.
from all social contact, whether verbal,
Unfortunately, by the time an individual is
physical or visual, is detrimental to the im-
incarcerated it is too late to reconsider and
mune system of a human being. Medical
avoid behaviors that have already taken
fact also supports the notion that AIDS is
place.
not easily transmittable, and is a behavior-
Despite proven medical facts, the State
ally responsible virus. Despite these facts,
of New Jersey's Department of Corrections
our society continues to support the theory
chooses to institute primitive methods of
that it is safer to confine those who suffer
treatment of AIDS inmates. While a diag-
from AIDS in a “leper colony” setting. There
the tree or something. Maybe she'll stop
ironing my dad's shirts.
I read and use Heresies extensively. |
have been researching the gender gap that
exists in the artworld and Heresies has lent
me some unique insights. Keep it up, etc.
As far as I know, I'm the only male that
reads your magazine (at my school at least).
But I also read military reports and NCO
87 —
Magazine to keep informed on all sides.
Cheers,
nosis of “full-blown AIDS” is in no way a
is a reason that people are frightened, and
diagnosis of increased infectiousness, the
that is because of our government's atti-
C.C.—Hamilton, New York
< -3
D.O.C. isolates prisoners suffering from full-
tude in perpetuating crisis-level educational
blown AIDS from the remaining population.
programming, not only within the correc-
In addition, prisoners are denied access to
tional system but in society in general. With-
legal rights as afforded to them through the
out support from the public and without
issue offered some intriguing questions
8th and 14th Amendments to the United
education, thousands of inmates —as well
about women and higher education, and |
States Constitution. This seems to be a com-
as free men and women with AIDS who
wanted to share some of my experiences.
Poli Sci in '65
Your flyer about the upcoming education
Heresies 25
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At thirty | was a political science major,
attending a university that was part of the
me, and kissed me—not passionately or
romantically, but hard. I| immediately got the
California state college system. It was the
message about what | was expected to do
1965—66 term, and | was to graduate in
to get my grade changed upward.
1966, after having completed my first two
Well, two can play the game. |I let him
years at a junior college. I had been a high
kiss me, and when he got to the point of
school dropout, had two children and a
wanting to go to a more private setting, |
husband, did all the housework, and
told him I couldn't that day, as I had a hus-
had to commute thirty miles one way to
band who would wonder where | was. He
school.
suggested we “make an appointment,”
There were only three political science
professors, as the school was newly
which we did. The next day | went to my
only female political science professor at the
opened—lI was in the first (four-year) grad-
university and told her the story. She said
uating class. The “leading male” prof was
she knew a way to fix it. She called him on
aloof and rarely allowed me to speak, but
the phone, told him she was my adviser,
being older I had the guts to speak up any-
that | was graduating in a month, and that
way. Word soon got to me from other stu-
she had to know my grade in advance of
dents that he couldn't understand why a
receiving the transcript. He told her | had
married woman was going to college: What
an A. Later in the day he called me at home,
would she do when she got out?
and | had the great pleasure of saying
No mentors at that place, | can tell you!
Of course, l-wouldn't have known a mentor
“Sucker,” and hanging up. In spite of her
having helped me in this situation, my “sav-
if I saw one. But my college days were one
ior” apparently never did anything for any
of the factors that later led me to become a
of the other women students, nor did she
raging feminist.
In my last semester | was short of money
for books and fees and tried to borrow from
the college emergency fund. As a married
woman, | was refused a loan. I cashed in
one of my children’s and my own life insur-
ance policies to get $250.
SEXUAL HARASSMENT
While attending university, | decided to
make up some work I had started in 1964
at another state school. I contacted my former professor, who said I could make up
the work by writing a paper. I did so, and
he sent me a grade lower than | thought |
deserved. When | called to complain, he
become involved in the women's movement
as far as I know.
GRADUATION
It’s possible I was the top student among
the political science majors, but my unseasoned new school decided to have only one
graduating classification— “with honors” —
for people with averages of 3.0 and above. |
had a 3.5 average, completing four years in
three with two semesters off in between, so
I couldn't be faulted for not being a serious
student. In my last semester | carried twenty-
one units while doing dishes, laundry, kids’
homework, and dealing with a husband,
since replaced, who was suddenly threatened by my impending graduation.
asked me to see him in his office, but after
One fellow student (male) whose average
arriving there he suggested we talk over cof-
fee at the cafeteria. Everything seemed nor-
was under three points was “liked” by the
department, so they created the classifica-
mal until we got to the cafeteria and he pro-
posed that we have a drink instead. Well, |
tion “With Distinction” for him and arranged
his entry into the master’s program at a
was thirty years old and had had drinks with
men before, including other professors, so
without thinking much about it, | agreed.
We went to a nearby bar and ordered.
All of a sudden he turned to me, grabbed
major university.
In sisterhood,
Barbara A. St. John
Editor, Teaching Equity
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89 —
Heresies 25
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am trying to be a mediøAl student. Or—lI am
that his excruciating leg pain has stopped.
medical student. Who is this I, and what is this
role? I hide in the bathroom sometimes, for pri-
The rest of the week, as | learned to diagnose ear
MARTHA REED HERBERT
infections and sore throats, the usual ailments of children, I watched Martin's impact on the community of
vacy, or perhaps to cry. | weep, feeling like a
doctors in the hospital. Everyone knew his story and
soldier in the medical army, a cipher in my little
white coat with my toy doctor tools in my pockets,
felt chastened; a doctor two weeks previously hadn't
pretending competence. Only rarely, and barely, does
even noticed the mass on his back. What a frighten-
the gaze of my superiors discern any qualities l've
ing oversight! Our future patients with back pain will
come to treasure over nearly four decades as my self.
bring Martin to mind, and remind us never to treat
l am to learn the skills and the telegraphic communi-
complaints as merely routine.
I work in an enormous tertiary care medical center,
cation style of the doctor's world. What relevance is
my self—my insights, my associations—to this task?
with esteemed experts and the highest technology.
Outside, the park benches across the street are part
Just as an airline pilot speaking over a scratchy radio
would inject dangerous ambiguity by broadcasting
of the neighborhood's housing stock. And the drug
metaphors about clouds, I as a doctor must be pre-
trade in the neighborhood may be as big a business
as the hospital. A rumor among local pregnant teen-
cise and concise, or someone might die.
agers that crack eases labor pains influences even
Martin, a ten-year-old boy, was the first patient |
saw in pediatrics. I had looked forward to this rota-
the nonusers to come in high for delivery. If a urine
toxicology screen reveals crack, they take the baby
tion because | love children. Peter Pan's “I won't grow
up” is one of my theme songs. Kids aren't yet fully
In a small
Their world is play and imagination. Martin's parents
community where
people live
together their
first exam by the intern found nothing wrong, except
for a large and painless swelling by his lower spine
whole lives,
to myself, I now often pathetically serve as translator.
But why are these Native American and African-look-
is no way to
to examine the boy and then whispered in small clusters in the hall. I kept the family company as best
can't even talk with them, since so many speak no
English. Because | managed to teach some Spanish
generations, there
truth. The examining room became a crossroads of
specialists from all over the hospital who descended
taught Spanish; as a result, after all the rhetoric about
how we should relate humanely to our patients, we
and for many
saw that none of Martin's pain could be explained by
trauma, our eyes met to honor the awful emerging
ber that much raw information. But with all the
school’s zeal to prepare us for our work, we weren't
that looked as if a whale were coming up for air. |
helped the neurologist do the second exam. As we
schools recently told my school to cut down their curriculum by 25 percent because no one can remem-
now his legs were hurting, too. Young boys love horseplay even more than | do, I thought to myself. The
no crack rehab programs.
The national accreditation association for medical
told us his back had been hurting since someone had
kicked him a few months ago in the playground, and
away, and the only way the mother can get her baby
back is to get in a crack rehab program. But there are
suckered, bribed, and beaten into believing bullshit.
ing people speaking Spanish?
On weekends I've been reading about genocide.
pretend that the
Mick Taussig's Shamanism, Colonialism and the Wild
Man talks about the holocaust inflicted by the Putu-
I could.
Martin was admitted a few hours later, and was soon
misfortune of one
leaves the others
pled him for life in just a few more days. Not that he's
likely to live for more than another year; his cancer is
wildly disseminated. Even though he hasn't been told
his prognosis, he does know that he can walk, and
mayo rubber profiteers on the Indians. Unspeakable
brutality and the murder of millions, rationalized by
rushed to emergency neurosurgery to free his spine
from the pressure of a tumor that would have crip-
projections of the white man's own barbarism onto
the victims. Yet while the whites despised the Indi-
unaffected.
ans, they still turned to them for their healing, because strangely it seemed to work.
Does my brand of healing work? How many times
The Art of
Education
=90
|
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Lynne Cohen
have I turned my clinical gaze upon some Hispanic
The white man brought not just new kinds of germs
mother with her stuffed-nosed child and repeated the
to sicken bodies, but a plague to kill cultures. In a
incantation of my attending physician: “Your child
small community where people live together their
has a viral illness. Don't worry about it; come back in
whole lives, and for many generations, there is no
a few days if it doesn't get better, or right away if the
way to pretend that the misfortune of one leaves
fever gets very high.” And the mother meekly accepts
the others unaffected. So where, then, is the boun-
my pronouncement and goes to the desk to fill out
the Medicaid paperwork.
dary between reweaving the social web and restoring
the body's integrity? And where do we want the boun-
By what authority do I deem the child to be stricken
with an innocuous virus? As one of the more forthright attending physicians confided in me, “When we
tell them this, we're really just blowing hot air out of
dary to be?
What is a viral illness, anyway? Native healing systems didn't have the category of viral illness. Does
that prove they were merely hocus-pocus? Is it simply
our mouths. If we wanted to prove it, we'd have to run
that Western medicine is more thorough and scienti-
viral cultures, and they take too long and are too ex-
fic? Then why is the molecular biology of viruses so
pensive anyway. And even then there's usually no
treatment.”
abstracted from the social context of contagion? And
why is the body reduced to a set of physical func-
Why has this mother been reduced to turning to
tions? How do I tell my patients that their illnesses
the likes of me—indeed, the likes of any of us—for
are equally caused by exploitation, uprootedness, and
her medical advice? I am told that native medicines
used to work a lot better before the white man cam2.
violencę? And why are we reduced to me, the budding professional, having to tell them? How did they
Heresies 25
L6
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gain what we professionals call ignorance?
back into the socia/ body. And even this social body is
too often mechanical.
hile Europeans were destroying native cultures abroad, they were burning the bearers of their own cultures’ folk knowledge at
In my preclinical psychiatry course, we interviewed
a nun from a conservative church who was hospitalized for depression. She told us she had been work-
the stake. Women and native peoples were
ing in a mission in South America, and went into crisis
hunted, degraded, and killed to make way
because she had never imagined such poverty. When
for mechanistic thinking and the rule of the market.
she questioned why God would allow such misery, she
And expansionism and pursuit of profit seemed to be
was told by her superiors that such thoughts were
fueled by a visceral horror of sensuality and rooted-
sinful. The psychiatrist teaching us made sure we
ness. Nature and natives, women and witches were
asked all the standard biopsychiatric questions about
seen as unruly and disorderly, needing to be subdued
depression: ‘Have you been having trouble sleeping?
and controlled. Science vehemently excluded unmea-
Has your appetite changed? Are you tired? Do you
surable sense perception, and any knowledge not
feel low self-esteem? Are you having trouble concen-
mathematizable was strictly second class. | learn this
trating? Are you finding it hard to make decisions? Do
too in my medical training, as they transform me from
you have feelings of hopelessness?” I was the only
a they into a we. “We're only interested in the facts,”
one in the room who asked her about South America
I was told recently when | gave an interpretation dur-
and her church. When | asked her if she'd ever heard
ing rounds. But what is a fact? A fact is something
of Liberation Theology, the teacher cut me off. That
that someone is around to measure and document.
night I complained bitterly to a radical psychiatrist
That means that most things that happen don't get
friend, expressing my horror that a coherent woman
to be facts.
would be incarcerated in a mental ward and kept from
So what things are fact enough to earn entry into
the medical record? Diagnosis: malignant mechanis-
learning about the context of her crisis. “Martha,”
my friend said to me, ‘stay horrified.”
tic market economy in Europe; leading to robbery,
genocide, and destruction of native lands; followed
have recently crossed a threshold, moving from
by violent uprooting; then chronic racism and exploi-
seeing the hospital as an alien and inhospitable
tation, with poor heating, poor nutrition, and over-
culture to dreaming about it every night and
crowding, providing a grand welcome for pathogens.
finding it intriguing. This is good, because it’s
If I could write that in the chart, it would no longer be
enough to give the medicines and advise the bed rest
hard to learn without falling in love, or at least
having a little fling. But it is also dangerous. | am feel-
that many in truth cannot afford to take. But only in
ing the seductive power now of the medical team, and
scattered progressive pockets do practitioners of so-
of the hospital world. l’d barely even imagined such a
cial medicine even attempt to move beyond seeing
complex community of cooperation. The medical cen-
illness as an individual's problem to putting the virus
ter where | work and study employs about forty thou-
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sand people. I do not know very much about the
Mouths move much faster than faces or gestures can
functioning of the whole: it overwhelms me. | barely
keep pace. Eyes only track horizontally, or perhaps down
know the parts of it where | am starting to participate. |
to a page, but they do sometimes smile.
can hardly conceive how to bridge the gap between
What do such eyes not see? Of what does such knowl-
calculating body fluid management and giving com-
edge remain ignorant? I| sometimes wonder whether
passion and comfort.
my very thoughtfulness and tenderness betray the trust
Only recently, while helping a physical examiner more
of my patients. If I put them off guard, if | allay their
skilled than I am, did I glimpse that sensitively palpat-
suspicions, into what have | seduced them? One day in
ing someone's abdomen for masses, or thoughtfully dis-
pediatrics, we rounded on the cardiology ward to see
cerning unusual heart sounds, could be a way of
the “interesting findings.” A two-year-old girl, born with
expressing love. The act of putting a stethoscope on
a gross heart malformation, had been given a heart
someone's body could be done with both tenderness
transplant. Already back from death several times, she
and utmost respect. I saw the reverence with which
is kept on an immunosuppressive drug that has grown
one could bear—not merely witness, but know/edgeable
black hair all over her arms and legs, and sideburns on
witness to another's physical being. And some of my
her face. Her immune system is kept from rejecting
physician preceptors have even taught me in this way.
the alien heart, but it will also fail to fight infection or
I treasure my times with my patients, for both the
cancer, of which she will probably die. As I approached
leisure of slow thoroughness | am granted as a stu-
her chest with my stethoscope, probably the fifteenth
dent, and for the ease and grace of conversation with
person to do so in as many minutes, she raised up her
regular people. It's easier for me to be they than we,
leg and fiercely kicked my hand away. I backed off.
even in my white coat, which reminds us who is who in
She'd made herself as clear as she could, I thought,
the hospital. But these intervals punctuate a day spent
without knowing how to talk. The next student, though,
in a different time warp. In the amount of time it takes
me to keep track of my three patients, my interns keep
was undaunted and placed his stethoscope on her
How do I tell my
track of a whole floor and my senior residents keep
track of the whole hospital. Moments of pride I've felt
patients that their
in grasping my patient's case have felt smaller beside
the doings of these others, who already know my pa-
exploitation,
told them she would have a longer life? Did they tell
her how new the procedure is and how risky the drugs?
and violence?
have? Did the surgeons ask the parents to consecrate
Did they discuss what kind of a life their child would
can help to think about a single patient.
Perhaps there is a different kind of grace operating
their daughter to the advancement of medical science? |
And why are we
here: the virtuosity of coordinating complicated information. Like a foreigner who can finally understand
guage that | still can barely speak. And the language is
the budding
“Have you ever listened to your heartbeat?” He said
professional,
tened. He looked very interested. How many doctors
no. She put her stethoscope in his ears, and he lis-
deviation from its unstated normal range opens out to
had seen him, in the half of his life that he’s spent in
having to tell
skiing a steep, fast slope where the trees don't matter
much unless they're in the way. Yet it still seems odd to
Another patient, eight years old, had a very loud heart
murmur that we all went to hear. My friend asked him,
full of numbers, spit out rapidly, where the order re-
a universe of pathophysiological significance. It’s like
wonder if the parents are too numb by now to see their
own daughter's rage.
reduced to me,
enough words to hear sentences, | am learning a lan-
veals the identity of each, and where a single figure's
formed from a dead duck to a live guinea pig? Had they
uprootedness,
choose which patients to send for tests. | am still
amazed at case conferences to see how many people
What had the surgeons told her parents? How had
they persuaded them to allow their daughter to be trans-
tem. | do not page the neurologist or endocrinologist
for a consult on my own initiative. I do not (or not much)
gled some trinkets above the girl's face. ‘Look at the
pretty toys," he said.
equally caused by
sometimes medically important. But I do not yet have
authority or knowledge to bring to bear the larger sys-
sion on her face. An even clearer message, but this
time unheeded. Finishing his exam, the student dan-
illnesses are
tient’s whole story and much more. True, my greater
intimacy lets me uncover, or recall, details which are
chest. The girl furiously kicked her arms and legs, and
shook her head from side to side with a rageful expres-
the hospital, without thinking to offer him their
stethoscopes?
them?
I teach my patients what I'm doing whenever | can,
me how little “affect,” as doctors call it , is expressed
whenever they show the slightest interest. Before | went
in this communication. Even the humor is deadpan.
to medical school, I taught biology and basic science
Heresies 25
— E€6
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Joni Sternbach Untitled, 1989, photograph.
to working-class adults. While teaching I saw the most
her aunt. Having escaped from that dire fate myself, |
poignant desire to learn, matched of course by the pau-
wanted to save her, too. | lavished praise on her
city or resources society assigns to such low-priority
intelligence—to her mother (in Spanish), to the attend-
human beings: no labs or equipment, no libraries, and
ing physicians, to anyone who could mirror it back to
me as a teacher, self-taught in science with my art and
her. And I gave her my instruments, and let her exam-
humanities degrees. Yet | taught them better than |
ine me. She looked into my eyes with my ophthalmo-
was later taught in school myself. I nurtured then—and
scope and saw the delicate red blood vessels spidering
still nurture—a vision of a people's reappropriation of
their way along the yellow retina toward the optic nerve
science. And | truly believe you can seduce anyone if
—and she even saw them pulsing with the heartbeat.
you figure out how to tickle their curiosity. Play and
She saw my eardrum, with the tiny sound-conducting
intrigue can melt hard armor, and they are the way
bones behind it, and the opalescent way it reflects the
back, I think, to connected creativity, to thinking for
light. She looked inside my nose and peered up into
ourselves and together about how to live on this earth.
the tall, dark, and narrow nasal cavern with its sheer,
l am daunted now, inside the belly of the monster, by
steep, curving pink walls. She listened to my heart and
the enormous effort and reevaluation this vision de-
her mother’s and her brother's and her own. | taught
mands. Maybe | should stick with the play and com-
her how to measure blood pressure. | told her that
passion, and forget the knowledge and skill. But it’s
there's nothing worse than being deadly bored, and that
too late for that; curiosity has me hooked.
she shouldn't let anyone stop her from dreaming big
dreams. “Go to college,” I said, “You'll thrive on the
ne day, when the clinic was slow, an eight-
challenge, and it will be fun.” And I hope I gave her
year-old girl came in with her sick little
something to remember. With the choices I saw her
brother. While she bubbled over with ques-
facing, I didn't stop to discuss what she might forget.
tions about every little thing I did, she told me
how she could never go to college because it
would be too hard—she wanted to be a secretary like
Martha R. Herbert is a teacher, writer, medical student, and
unrepentant materialist utopian.
The Art of
efori ejg
—- 94
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NOTICE
This is to inform our readers that the “Women on Men” issue is being delayed
as a result of our former office manager having removed without permission
more than $12,000 from the Heresies corporation account (monies that were
a combination of state and federal grants awarded for the publication of
the “Women on Men” issue). In addition, at that time she also collected and
removed all the materials for the “Women on Men” issue. To date she has
refused to return either the funds or the materials to us. Heresies Collective,
Inc. has been in litigation with her and her husband, who was also a
signatory on the account into which the funds were originally placed, but
to date we have been unable to settle.
An injunction was obtained by our lawyers against the defendants in the case
entitled Heresies v. Kenny and Alexander, which is pending in the New York
County Supreme Court. We expect to go to trial before the end of this year
to resolve this matter. Further information can be obtained from our attorneys,
Alterman & Boop, P.C., 349 Broadway, New York, NY 10013, Tel. 212-226-2800.
CAREL MOISEIWITSCH
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' b674 đ
MADHOUSE MADHOUSE KATE MILLETT
In 1972 through misguided family intervention I was caught and held in a California madhouse.
And again in 1980, this time in Ireland where my sympathy with the hunger strikers and my ‘record’
made it possible for the police to commit me indefinitely to a back ward asylum in County Clare.
Kate Millett is a
New York sculptor
and writer. She has
been sculpting in ,
mixed media for f
30 years.
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Sio
FEER SEIRENA
:
: ASEE AoA
Claire Moore The Secret, artist's book, ca. 1987.
Claire Moore 1912—1988
The Secret was one of Claire Moore’s last hand-editioned books. A painter, writer, and teacher, Claire mimeographed her drawings and visual stories in book form before today’s copy machines were in broad use. Many of her
books are in the Museum of Modern Art library and the Franklin Furnace Archive.
Claire studied in New York with Werner Drewes and Fernand Leger and worked alongside Jackson Pollock in the mural painting workshop of
David Siquieros. She married, painted, and studied with David Park in California before returning to New York to raise her daughter, Nellie, as a
single parent. The figure and words about space and human anxieties, placed in a setting of outer space, were the subject of Claire's paintings of
the last years. A mentor to many artists, writers, and poets, Claire was optimistic about the future. She died in August 1988 before the openings of
a show of paintings at June Kelly Gallery and a show of works on paper at Susan Teller Gallery.
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0 ۱
0 Ole AOA
“OCR و3
` ISSN 0146-3411
$6.75
ارا ا تلا للا
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2 Te
o TT
r
ا
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I JUST WORKED,.
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I SUPPOSE MY WORK WAS ROOTED
IN THE WORK OF ARTISTS WHO CAME
H
J
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Í S
TO THOSE WHO RESPOND,
A WORK OF ART IS THE VISUAL,
VERRAL, AURAL EVIDENCE OF
A SINGULAR IDENTITY.
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SECRET
CF ART
IS THAT
IT IS 80
SIMPLE,
TO STATE
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ТНЕ ЅЕСВЕТ ВЕІОМСОЗ
ТО БУЕВҮОМЕ,
– МНІСН 1$ ЮНҮ
І ҒЕЕІ
ЕМВАНВАЅЅЕ)
ТВҮІМІ ТО
ЕХРІАТМ АВТ.
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IT IS ALWAYS
THE SAME SECRET,
REVEALED AT
DIFFERENT TIMES
AND PLACES IN
DIFFERENT WAYS.
ART IS THE PRIKAL SECRET THAT
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The nd
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A A = RR ESSERE
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Media of