Happy to share a new study about eco-art education that our research team finished this fall. Recently published in the Journal of Art and Design Education (2020, vol 39, issue 3), this study explores the impacts of the environmental art installations I’ve been co-creating with students and faculty over the last decade at OISE, found in our walking art gallery. The article is entitled “Conceptualizing Art Education as Environmental Activism in Preservice Teacher Education”, and it draws on methods from arts-based research and qualitative case study in its investigation of the impacts of creating environmental art installations in a community-based, eco-art education program. Our findings support our lived experience that graduate students experienced behavioural and attitudinal shifts towards sustainability after engaging in the processes of creating environmental art; involvement in the program also provided opportunities for building community, engaging multiple domains of learning, modelling sustainable art-making practices, and prompting environmental activism. The results of this study – along with the cover photo of one of our recent installations – continue to inform a developing pedagogy for environmental art education in higher education settings. My hope is that it inspires others to try eco-art ed in their own institutions.
Choice-based Approaches to Art Education
What a year this has been! The pandemic has continued to hold me back from blogging, thanks to the seismic shift to online learning and all of it new dimensions. One of my biggest challenges has been how to move my Art Education courses online – how do I teach basic art techniques to preservice teachers, many of whom haven’t made art since their own time as elementary students? And how do I do that with no access to a common set of art materials or tools? Lots of talking with my artistic friends and fellow art educators made me realize that mailing out a set of basic tools and materials would only add to the carbon footprint of the course, which is the opposite of what I’m trying to teach. Instead, I drew inspiration from Deborah Sickler-Voigt’s book Teaching and Learning in Art Education. In it, she promotes the notion of a comprehensive approach to art education, which is student-centred, inclusive, multidisciplinary, and most importantly, choice-based. What if I moved the focus away from technique and put more emphasis on mean-making? What if the tools and materials they used were based on what they had on hand at home, rather than on what I provided? I piloted this approach last spring for the first time, and taught it again this fall, with steadily improving results each time. I saw the same realization grow from week to week that my students are indeed creative beings (just like I have seen in my F2F classes), and that they could make art in lots of different ways, using a wide range of materials and techniques. Letting the ‘big ideas’ they feel passionate about be at the centre of the creative process ensured their buy-in, and we were all amazed at the incredible variety of artworks that resulted. We used the online app ‘SeeSaw’ to share our artworks, ensuring a rich trading of ideas between students. While I still miss learning alongside them in person, giving them more creative latitude and choice are elements I’ll keep in play in this course moving forward.
Eco-learning to E-learning through Nature Journaling
Like so many things over the past few months, my blog writing has been sidelined since the arrival of the pandemic in Canada in March. I’ve been working on how to take an active PD series focused on environmental and sustainability education and shift it quickly to e-learning. We’ve been using the Zoom platform to bring EcoSchools teachers together with some success, as we’ve had more teachers involved than ever before. But my next challenge – how to do this with environmental art-making? The limitations have been daunting – the weather outside was wet and chilly, teachers were only able to join online, with no guarantees of specific art materials or tools on hand. But spring always brings with it a sense of excitement and anticipation in a cold climate, so turning our attention to nature-journaling seemed like a viable way to re-connect with other living beings in a time when we were mostly staying inside. I had great models to follow – check out the amazing work of Clare Walker Leslie, or that of John Muir Laws and Emily Lygren – artists who have written inspiring books on nature journaling for teachers to follow. I discovered that nature journaling can be framed through the 4Rs – reconnect with nature, record nature, research nature, and reflect on nature – and can be easily integrated with math, literacy, geography, and science. Its flexibility can allow for teachers and students to use any art materials at hand, putting their creativity into play as they learn about ecology, biodiversity, and climate change. Most importantly, the process of nature journaling can remind us that we are part of nature, not separate from it. If you’d like to experience this webinar, you can find it in the TDSB’s archive.
Creating Garden-based Art in the Cold
How to do garden-based art making in a cold climate when gardens are still dormant? This was my challenge last April, when the first spring plants were peaking out of the just-thawed soil, as we hosted a research symposium as part of the 2019 AERA conference (one of the world’s largest education research conferences.) Organized in conjunction with Susan Gerofsky (UBC) and Julia Ostertag, it included five presentations on educational gardens in higher ed institutions across Canada and the US. As the conference theme was on multimodal forms of learning, we decided to include an art-making component, but with no plants in the gardens yet, this proved to be a challenge. I decided to (literally) draw on our large archive of photographs of the plants in the garden instead, along with dried leaves and flowers saved from the previous fall. The forty delegates in attendance were invited to use enlarged black & white photos of the plants in the OISE garden as a starting point to creating their own art. Some added colour with pencil crayons, pastels and watercolours; others cut, folded and ripped the photos, and incorporated dried plant materials. With a variety of entry points, this proved to be a very flexible activity, open to a wide range of skill levels. Many of the delegates expressed their enjoyment of the activity, which enhanced their understanding of the papers presented. Perhaps a new approach to attending academic conferences has been found! See some of the artworks that resulted below.
Making Climate Change Personal
What words do you associate with climate change? Fear, destruction, pollution, degradation? These were some of the words offered by the audience at a keynote I delivered recently at a conference on EE. This might be one of our greatest challenges in EE these days: moving people from being frozen in fear about climate change, to becoming actively involved in climate action. I offered an alternate set of words: love, creativity, and hope. By connecting the impacts of climate change to all that we love in the world, I aimed to make the threats it poses personal and emotional, igniting our innate desire to protection all that is important to us. By demonstrating the central role of creativity in architectural, technological, and cultural shifts towards sustainability, I aimed to highlight the critical need for creativity and innovation in 21st learning. And by ending with David Orr’s memorable quote “hope is a verb with its sleeves rolled up”, the audience left feeling empowered in taking climate action in their roles as educators. So what are your words for climate change? How do you situate it in your teaching? And how are you making it personal for your learners?
Reflecting on the Adventure of a Lifetime
August 25-26, 2017
Our last full day on Leg 9 of the Canada C3 expedition arrived far too quickly. In the morning briefing we shared highlights from our two days in Gjoa Haven, and discussed what our last 24 hours on the Polar Prince would entail. A group of us spent the morning finalizing the group artwork for the hangar; we created two images connected by text (in French, English and Inuktitut) that symbolized the collaborative adventure we had been on together, moving from traditional conceptions of the North for many, to something more personal, evocative and transformative.
We felt lucky to have one final afternoon to learn on the land at Jenny-Lind Island, home to snow geese, owls, lemmings, squirrels, and muskox. While we only saw the first and the last of this list of animals, there was lots of evidence of all in the form of feathers, bones, holes, and hoofprints strewn across the sand, rocks, peat bogs, and water of this immense, flat island. Many on the trip used the long hike as a time of reflection, reviewing our experiences, conversations, and rich learning of the previous twelve days. This continued as we headed back in light rain to the ship, where a final celebratory dinner awaited us, prepared by Chef Matt. Accompanied by impressive videos of the trip from the Communications Team, poetry readings, and guitar music later in the hangar, we began the process of trying to understand what Leg 9 has meant to each of us.
This continued through our long journey home the next day, talking in pairs and small groups as we travelled from Cambridge Bay to Yellowknife, and then onto Edmonton, and for me, finally arriving in Toronto in the wee hours. A range of emotions hit me as I travelled from the North to home – sadness that this remarkable adventure was over; happiness in seeing my family; but mostly gratitude for the incredible gift of going on this expedition at this moment in my life. While the immediate challenge of travelling to new places and learning from such interesting people is over, now comes the hardest part of the journey; how I will I share what I have learned with others? How has this voyage changed me as a person, as an educator, as a mother, wife, sister and daughter? How will the process of making meaning help me to contribute to Canada’s growth as a nation in her next 150 years? These are the questions that I’ll continue to work towards answering in the days and months to come.
Northern Hospitality
August 24, 2017
A second day in Gjoa Haven proved to be a gift as we got a glimpse into the generous hospitality of the people in this community, as well as some of its challenges. After a presentation by the Parks Canada staff about the protection of the local sites of the wrecks of the Erasmus and the Terror (Franklin’s ships), we wandered the town to see what we could find. Many people warmly greeted us and stopped to chat; they were interested in the C3 ship and our journey. I made a point of visiting the local Co-op and Northern stores, both fixtures in many Arctic towns; I had heard about the shocking prices of food in the North, and wanted to see for myself. A few prices that would make feeding a family a challenge: &11.99 for 4L of milk, a large box of Cornflakes for $9.99, and $16.49 for 12 rolls of toilet paper! Surprisingly the produce wasn’t as expensive as I thought it would be, but I learned that it was subsidized to help get families on a healthier diet. This strategy isn’t working well however; despite alarming rates of diabetes in the North, the Inuit don’t eat a lot of vegetables as their traditional diet is rich in meat and fish. Health and wellness is a huge concern in isolated communities, and this one example demonstrates that there aren’t any easy answers in solving these complex challenges as they are connected to the social/cultural traditions and economic realities of the Inuit.
Later in the day we went back ashore for a special event put on by the community just for us. The community centre was packed with families, with children of all ages playing and enjoying each other’s company. We were treated to a meal of ‘country food’, which means traditional Inuit delicacies such as caribou stew, seal, dried caribou, and air-dried char. There were many speeches (simultaneously translated into English and Inuktituk), throat-singing, drum-dancing, and presentations on Amundsen. The highlight was a group of children performing a square dance, a favourite past-time in many Inuit communities; as they got a number of our group up dancing for the crowd, this proved highly entertaining as the children were far superior dancers. This was a heart-warming event, where we were introduced to the warm hospitality and focus on family in Gjoa Haven. What a wonderful end to our time in this community!
Warm Welcome in Gjoa Haven
August 23, 2017
Having arrived in Gjoa Haven the night before, we transferred to shore and were greeted by youth from the community – grade 11 students Barbara and Alvin proved to be warm and knowledgeable guides over the next two days. They gave us a guided tour of the town, encouraging us to stop to photograph the muskox hide drying in front of one house, and introducing us to Wayne Puqiqnak, a local sculptor, at another. A small group of us ended up at the local highschool, where both elementary and secondary students had gathered to learn more about the C3 journey. I was fortunate to work with a grade 6 class after this, using the C3 giant floor map of Canada (made in collaboration with the Canadian Geographical Society and the Canadian Museum of Nature) as the basis for our discussion. It was a hoot to crawl from coast to coast to coast as the children found places they had travelled to in the past, or dreamed of going to in the future. The children and their teacher were lovely – curious, kind, and enthusiastic – and a highlight of my trip to Gjoa Haven.
After a short visit to Gjoa Haven’s beautiful new hamlet offices, we visited the Heritage Centre, which has a great exhibit on the history of the area, and a wonderful gallery where many in our group bought the work of local artists. We joined the Canadian Rangers for a long hike out to Swan Lake, and were delighted to see our Captain out for a run (he did 17km around the lake and back – what a way to stay in shape at sea!) On the way back to town we visited the monument to Roald Amundsen, the Norwegian explorer who was the first European to make it through the Northwest Passage. Gjoa Haven is named after his ship, which spent two winters in the beautiful harbour in which our ship was now anchored. Moments like this resonated with me as the history of these places came alive, juxtaposed by the contemporary realities of the community. The residents of Gjoa are rightfully proud of their connection to Amundsen’s travels, as their ancestors were the ones to teach him how to survive and travel in the North. There is an important learning that can be connected to reconciliation here – all cultures have expertise and ways of knowing that can help us accomplish our hopes and goals in life, if only we are open to learning from them.
From Reconciliation to ReconciliACTION
August 22, 2017
By Tuesday of the Leg 9 C3 journey, we had gotten used to the disconcertingly loud boom-crunch as the ice hit the bow of the Polar Prince, and the sway of the ship that accompanied it, and then just like that, the ice was gone. As we sailed down the west side of the Boothia Peninsula to King William Island, we found ourselves in calm water devoid of ice, and few views to see. So we shifted into on-board programming mode to continue our learning into the C3 themes. Charlene Bearhead presented her work as the Education Coordinator for the National Inquiry into Murdered and Missing Indigenous Women and Girls – I can’t imagine a tougher assignment as an educator. She spoke eloquently of the many themes that have been featured in the education guide, entitled Their Voices Will Guide Us, which has been created with the spirit of these women in mind. Over 107 reports and inquiries have been conducted on missing and murdered Indigenous women, with over 1000 recommendations, and to date few have been implemented. Charlene spoke movingly about women she has known who have been murdered or gone missing, and described how in some cases, little has been done to investigate their disappearance. The educational materials, due out in early September, will help all of us better understand this national tragedy, and help us move from reconciliation to reconciliACTION – taking concrete actions towards reconciliation with indigenous people in our families, schools and communities.
The second highlight of the day was doing a Facebook Live session with our three youth ambassadors to highlight their special contributions to the journey. With a beautiful sun set in the harbor of Gjoa Haven behind us, these young women told us more about themselves, and what they were learning on Leg 9. It did give me pause to consider how many Indigenous girls and young women might still be with us to make their own important contributions if only our nation had taken action on the recommendations of these previous reports and inquiries generations earlier. Working towards implementing the recommendations of the National Inquiry, when they are ready, will be critical work that all Canadians need to take on.
Magic in the Northwest Passage
August 21, 2017
It was an early start to the day today; up at 6am as we were anxious not to miss our passage through the Bellot Strait. As has been the norm, we woke up to full sun; for most of the journey so far, the sun has gotten low on the horizon at night, but hasn’t fully set, so even in the wee hours there has been daylight of varying intensity outside. We gathered on the bow in the sunshine, waiting to see how the currents and the slack water would guide (or impede) our journey. At only about 800 m. wide, the Strait forms a critical connection to the waters of Prince Regent Sound, and saves us going north around Somerset Island, which is still full of sea ice. We formed an impromptu choir to sing Stan Roger’s epic song Northwest Passage on a Facebook Live Session as Bellot is considered the heart of this incredible journey.
I also spent some time in the bridge; under the expert leadership of Captain Steffan Guy, it was a quiet and tense atmosphere as the crew focused on the logistics of sailing us safely through the strait. Little did we know how hard the crew would work this day. As we arrived at the west end of Bellot, the sea ice began to appear, sporadically at first, and then thick enough to form a sea of white as we entered Franklin Strait. Who knew that watching an icebreaker do its work could be so fascinating? We spent hours on deck, listening to the bow crash through large chunks of sea ice, often as much as five or six feet thick. At one point, we came to the rescue of two sailboats surrounded by ice; hopping into our wake, they were relieved to have such an easy passage. To celebrate our trip through the Northwest Passage, Chef Matt prepared ‘country food’ appetizers: air-dried char (from Jaypooti’s wife), narwhal (caught by Jena’s brother), cod’s tongues, scallops/bacon, and smoked char on cucumbers. The narwhal was surprisingly tasty – not unlike sushi. The evening ended with a giant sing-along in the Knot, thanks to four talented guitar players (who do double-duty as scientists, zodiac drivers and expedition leaders) – a magical way to end a remarkable day!