Tuesday, October 22, 2013

Musings from NDEO in Miami

I am nestled into my Hyatt Regency bed (quite comfortable) and thinking it is a good time to check in and share a little about how I got here.

It all boils down to dancers with brains.

And, starting tomorrow I will be conferencing with about 400 of them at the National Dance Educators Organization Conference.  Trust me. . . people who can kick overhead and quote learning theory are intimidating!  This annual event is a chance for dance teachers to come together and share what is working in the field, what is not working, what needs attention and what needs to be forgotten.

The National Dance Educator's Organization is a a large and vibrant community of dance educators from across the country (and beyond), serving the needs of dance education and supporting best practices in the field. This year's conference is on "The Art and Craft of Teaching."

But, this post actually isn't about the wonderful aspects of NDEO. If you are interested in the organization, you should look it up and become a member (plus, if you live in California, you become an automatic member of the CDEA-- of which I am cool enough to be called co-president).

The real reason for this post is . . . Twitter.  Huh? Schwat?  Whatchu talkin' bout?

Tonight I had the pleasure of training two of the smartest, most beautiful, most embodied women I know in the art of microblogging.  And, I realized that they are representative of so many of the dance educators of today.  Yes, I have my working group of dance-twitter-peeps, but as a whole, dance organizations are not so hip to the social media trends.  In other words, our branding and buzz making pretty much sucks.  Over the course of the next few days, information will be flung in heaps across panels, workshops, paper presentations and dance floors. The participants will be saturated from the diversity of ideas being tossed around the hallways, in elevators, over coffee and on the sidewalks.

But, who else will know?  Well, at the rate we are sharing on twitter, about 3 people.

So, I am calling dance educators to the twitter campaign. Tweet and twitter about all the ideas you encounter, ask the questions, share the answers, retreet and favorite until your heart's content!  We need to let the world know how much energy there is in this building. How we see a brighter future for generations through moving, feeling, experiencing, learning, knowing, and embodying.

Other fields have figured this out. They have learned how to create the buzz surrounding what they do and love. We need to give an in road to dance today and social media is the best possible way we can get the word out and reach as many people as possible.  It feels good to be a part of something that is alive with energy of a group that is rich with life and ideas.  Twitter is just one platform for us to create that buzz potential, to create a world that anyone who loves dance can find a home, find kinship and find support.  This is our chance to move the experience we have at the conference beyond the walls of this building and into the world at large.

So, go forth, download the app, set up an account, or revive the one you created and forgot about!  Tweet your love of dance!

. . . and don't forget to hashtag #NDEO2013

and I promise I will follow back @bethmegill


Monday, October 7, 2013

Can you see the big picture?

The more I am getting to know about in the ins and outs of the California education system, the more I am realizing why the arts feel so forgotten.  The biggest problem I have noticed is that in general artists do not become administrators.  In much of my experience, the musicians, directors and choreographers are the last ones to volunteer for administrative positions or school-wide tasks.  This is causing a rift between the needs of the performing arts and the people making all the decisions. 

Of course there are exceptions.  I feel very proud to say I trust my dean to fight for the performing arts across campus. I also know a few artists who double as arts advocates in positions across campus, in unions and in state organizations.  But, these champions of the arts are few in number and  in many cases feel like David against Goliath. The irony is that everyone loves the performing arts.  I am sure most schools have featured their performing arts programs on the covers of their school catalog, schedule of classes or introductory brochure.  The arts are the glamorous poster children for personal growth and enrichment.  And, a good portion of the school funding often goes to theaters and arts programs in order to maintain these attractive faces of the college.  And, yet we feel the squeeze: fewer classes, fewer faculty, restrictions on repeatability, concerns about academic integrity.

Despite the general love for the arts, there remains an imbalanced perception of the intrinsic value of the performing arts.  We must be better advocates beyond the classroom if we hope to make changes beyond the safe zone of our rehearsal room, theater or dance studio.  We need to be firmly planted in the conference rooms in order to explain the value of our programs at every turn, or rather, in every campus, district or state wide discussion and vote. 

But, few of us want to step up.  Face it, as artists we like to spend our time practicing our art and teaching our art.  It is much more fun to be in a rehearsal than sitting in a tiresome meeting about budgets.  But, therein lies the problem.  Our desire to be in the creative fray is keeping our time tied up and keeping us out of the board rooms and off the decision making committees. 

Most dance programs at the California community colleges have 1-2 full time faculty. That means the success of the whole program relies on one or two problem solvers who have to make all the decisions and attend all aspects of getting the programs running and functional.  No wonder dance instructors struggle to find time to be on district boards. Directors and conductors probably feel the same way.  When you are prepping for a show, it is easy to feel that the committee meeting is little more than an irritant.

Plus, I am arriving at secondary conclusion that I feel might play even more firmly into the nature of performing artists not moving into administration.  Try this rationale on for size. . .

A dance instructor leads a personally rich and satisfying life.  We get to make meaningful art on a daily basis.  Our practice challenges us to grown as individuals and also gives us the pleasure of entertaining others.  We already have a strong sense of personal power and significance.  Performing artists exist in a world of creative power.  Therefore, we don't feel the need to exert ourselves beyond our domain.  We are already kings and queens of our world.  We don't need to be on a committee to feel like we can do something.  We are already deciders and producers. 

But, there is the rub. 

Our worlds exist in these little bubbles and risk imploding if we can't externalize their value to a wider audience.  If we don't transition (even part time) into advocates, we are doing a disservice to the future generations of performing arts education.  When I think about it, we are really, very lucky that people love the arts as much as they do.  Staying on the covers of catalogs and brochures is part of what is keeping us going.

Are you an artist who has moved into administration or advocacy?  Do you know someone who has?  What problems to do see for performing arts in making this transition?  
How might the performing arts education look different if we did have a conductor, choreographer or director at the helm of the division? The school? The district? The state?