Tuesday, October 7, 2014
Professor Media*
Thursday, October 1, 2009
Dance Education for All
Lately, because of some recent discussions with the board of our local Windfall Dancers school and company here in Bloomington, Indiana, I’ve been thinking about the nature of dance education and, to be frank, its general absence from the public school curriculum. Dedicated dance classes are a rarity, and dance departments are virtually unheard of (though, of course, there are exceptions).
One reason for the absence of dance in the curriculum is lack of recognition that dance is a kinesthetic art form from which all students would derive benefit. In most schools, if dance is touched on at all, it is in the context of physical education. The physicality of dance gets it lumped in with dodge-ball and track. Indeed, acrobatics have long been a part of the dance repertoire. Take a look at the Nicolas brothers, Donald O’Connor, or contestants on the popular television show, “So You Think You Can Dance.”
But dancing and dance education are about more than physicality. Poet John Dryden called dancing “the poetry of the foot.” To Martha Graham, dance was “the hidden language of the soul.”
Isadora Duncan summed up the art this way: “There are likewise three kinds of dancers: first, those who consider dancing as a sort of gymnastic drill, made up of impersonal and graceful arabesques; second, those who, by concentrating their minds, lead the body into the rhythm of a desired emotion, expressing a remembered feeling or experience. And finally, there are those who convert the body into a luminous fluidity, surrendering it to the inspiration of the soul.”
Thus it always has been difficult to situate dance in the school curriculum, and this difficulty often has relegated dance education to the fringe — and add-on rather than a core subject for all students.
Merce Cunningham, the renowned dancer and choreographer who died at age 90 in April this year, spent much of his life as a teacher of dance and as a strong advocate for dance education. But he also recognized the challenges not only of dancing but also of teaching others to dance. Dancing is movement, and movement by its nature is ephemeral. Cunningham put it this way: “You have to love dancing to stick to it. It gives you nothing back, no manuscripts to store away, no paintings to show on walls and maybe hang in museums, no poems to be printed and sold, nothing but that single fleeting moment when you feel alive. It is not for unsteady souls.”
And so the challenge for educators who believe, as I do, that the arts — all of the arts — are fundamental to our development as holistic beings, is somehow to capture the ephemeral that is so much the reality of dance and situate it in the core of schooling. Dance should not be merely an add-on, an occasional lesson in P.E. class, an after-school activity, or something a few students do in the context of other activities, from glee club to show choir. Dance is something that all students need to experience.
Wednesday, September 30, 2009
A Philosophical Grounding
From time to time education philosophy cycles from the instrumental to the holistic and back again, particularly in terms of public policy. To be clear at the outset, I believe the holistic is of greater value, and I suspect that most educators also believe this.
Some years ago I approached John Goodlad about bringing out a second edition of his 1979 book, What Schools Are For, because the essential discussion is so sound. He consented, and I acquired his old mentor Ralph Tyler’s last piece of writing (before his death at age 92) to serve as a foreword. In this book Goodlad hearkens to the precepts articulated by John Dewey and others early in the twentieth century, namely, that the central purpose of education is individual self-realization. Along this journey there are, of course, instrumental purposes, such as learning to read, to compute, and to work with others.
Dewey averred that “the criterion of the value of school education is the extent to which it creates a desire for continued growth and supplies the means for making the desire effective in fact.” Almost sixty years later, Lawrence Cremin paraphrased Dewey, saying that “the aim of education is not merely to make citizens, or workers, or fathers, or mothers, but ultimately to make human beings who will live life to the fullest.”
Whenever education is narrowly prescribed, it loses value. Goodlad refers to “educational bankruptcy” in schools “when certain groups take literally and seriously the notion that the primary goal of schools is to teach the three Rs.” Effective schooling is much, much more. I embrace Goodlad’s notion of the “educative society — one in which the whole culture educates.” And, for me, that culture cannot be defined by one geopolitical designation but must be international. At the core of all education should, indeed must, be the arts writ large.
