I recently came across a brief autobiographical essay by Elif Batuman, a lecturer in literature at Stanford University:
Confessions of an Accidental Literary Scholar
I admire her ability to stay true to what felt right to her, as a developing writer and scholar of literature, and not to take for granted the steps one is "supposed" to take to become a writer (e.g., get an MFA, go to writers colonies, etc)...of course, I am sure part of my fondness for this essay also stems from my shared love of Russian literature (which I recently started studying) and my own budding career in higher education (well, "budding career" might be a bit excessive, but I sure do love spending time in the libraries of the campus where I work).
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Showing posts with label education. Show all posts
Tuesday, February 16, 2010
Thursday, April 23, 2009
Parsons rally
Today I took an hour off from work to participate in a rally at the New School University. (I took many photos of the rally on my cell phone, but I still have not acquired the necessary cable to connect my phone to my computer...so, no photos for the blog yet, unfortunately.)
I earned my MFA in Visual Arts at Parsons, a division of the New School, five years ago. This year has seen much upheaval at Parsons. The new chairperson, Coco Fusco, is extremely unpopular with the faculty, who feel greatly disrespected and often ignored by Ms. Fusco. Unrest in the department reached a climax just before Spring Break, when 12 faculty members, some who had been teaching at Parsons as many as 34 years, received notification via email that they would not be teaching their classes in the coming semester. The fact that this email was sent from Ms. Fusco did not help the situation.
I don't mean to put all the blame on Coco Fusco here. For all I know she is just a mouthpiece for the administration. The bigger targets seem to be New School President Bob Kerrey and the Parsons Dean and Provost, who seem to be on a mission to completely change the nature of the Fine Arts department by morphing it into a design and business oriented program. Parsons faculty, students, and alumni fear that, ultimately, an object-making curriculum, and the physical graduate studio spaces that go with it, will be done away with.
Part-time faculty Peter Drake (with whom I had a year-long course in my second year at Parsons) and Laurence Hegarty have spearheaded a lot of the faculty resistance effort. Their actions have been covered by several news sources, including the New York Times:
Parsons Faculty is Cut Amid Protests by Artists
The Parsons faculty has been having trouble with the New School administration ever since they first organized and secured a hard-won union for adjunct faculty (the lifeblood of most New School departments). See this 2004 Village Voice article as reference:
New School's Labor War
The hurdles these faculty have had to deal with seem extremely ridiculous when one considers that the New School was founded in the middle of the last century quite specifically as a liberal, progressive institution.
So, I've written emails to the New School administration as a concerned Parsons alumna, and I went to the rally outside the main administration building today.
The rally was energized, and also peaceful. Police put up barricades to control the flow of pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk around the rally, but there were zero altercations. Faculty and students just wanted their voices to be heard. I was so glad to be there, surrounded by my former classmates and teachers, among many others (the organizers estimated the turnout to be around 300+). Even in these troubling times at the New School, I found myself proud to be an alumna, because being a graduate of the Fine Arts program meant I was affiliated with that entire creative community - and today I was reminded how powerful it can feel to be a member of a community. I felt revved up, and inspired to create more.
I want to thank the organizers of the rally today for a wonderful event - I hope that today's rally, and continued action, leads to greater transparency in the New School administration and greater communication with the Parsons faculty.
I earned my MFA in Visual Arts at Parsons, a division of the New School, five years ago. This year has seen much upheaval at Parsons. The new chairperson, Coco Fusco, is extremely unpopular with the faculty, who feel greatly disrespected and often ignored by Ms. Fusco. Unrest in the department reached a climax just before Spring Break, when 12 faculty members, some who had been teaching at Parsons as many as 34 years, received notification via email that they would not be teaching their classes in the coming semester. The fact that this email was sent from Ms. Fusco did not help the situation.
I don't mean to put all the blame on Coco Fusco here. For all I know she is just a mouthpiece for the administration. The bigger targets seem to be New School President Bob Kerrey and the Parsons Dean and Provost, who seem to be on a mission to completely change the nature of the Fine Arts department by morphing it into a design and business oriented program. Parsons faculty, students, and alumni fear that, ultimately, an object-making curriculum, and the physical graduate studio spaces that go with it, will be done away with.
Part-time faculty Peter Drake (with whom I had a year-long course in my second year at Parsons) and Laurence Hegarty have spearheaded a lot of the faculty resistance effort. Their actions have been covered by several news sources, including the New York Times:
Parsons Faculty is Cut Amid Protests by Artists
The Parsons faculty has been having trouble with the New School administration ever since they first organized and secured a hard-won union for adjunct faculty (the lifeblood of most New School departments). See this 2004 Village Voice article as reference:
New School's Labor War
The hurdles these faculty have had to deal with seem extremely ridiculous when one considers that the New School was founded in the middle of the last century quite specifically as a liberal, progressive institution.
So, I've written emails to the New School administration as a concerned Parsons alumna, and I went to the rally outside the main administration building today.
The rally was energized, and also peaceful. Police put up barricades to control the flow of pedestrian traffic on the sidewalk around the rally, but there were zero altercations. Faculty and students just wanted their voices to be heard. I was so glad to be there, surrounded by my former classmates and teachers, among many others (the organizers estimated the turnout to be around 300+). Even in these troubling times at the New School, I found myself proud to be an alumna, because being a graduate of the Fine Arts program meant I was affiliated with that entire creative community - and today I was reminded how powerful it can feel to be a member of a community. I felt revved up, and inspired to create more.
I want to thank the organizers of the rally today for a wonderful event - I hope that today's rally, and continued action, leads to greater transparency in the New School administration and greater communication with the Parsons faculty.
Saturday, March 7, 2009
art school = waste of time?
I used to spend more time than I do now wondering whether my years as a graduate art student were a creative and financial waste of time. But once in a while I read something that gets those thoughts stirring in my head again.
I completed my MFA in Fine Arts in 2004, and I'm currently looking forward to paying off the loans I took out for this degree for the next 25 years or so. (Hm, hopefully not that long...c'mon lotto! Big money! No whammies!)
In the couple years after I graduated, as I slowly accepted the fact that loan repayment was to be my new constant companion, I doubted many times whether the financial investment was worth it. I rarely make (visual) art now, and I have no desire to teach art at a college level (this was the goal of many of my classmates, as the MFA is the terminal degree in the field and required for nearly any teaching position). I could not afford even to work in a (generally not monetarily awesome) field related to visual art, as it was crucial that I start making significant money immediately to pay back Uncle Sam.
Well, I'd had such thoughts clear from my head for some time, but they were just reactivated tonight by an article by Dave Hickey in the March 2009 issue of Art in America: "Revision Number Six: Addictions." (Note: I do not understand the meaning of this title - perhaps if I'd been reading Art in America regularly I'd know what the heck this title is all about?) (Also note: I've always enjoyed Dave Hickey's writing - I think he has an intelligent unique voice, and he doesn't apologize for going against the grain once in a while).
Anyhoo...in this article, Hickey argues that no school program can create an artist (you either are one or you're not) and that school can in fact damage artists.
These are arguments that I've heard, and contemplated, before. I believe there's some truth to these arguments.
On the other hand, I can also readily see some benefits of art school. The most glaring benefit, in my mind, is the opportunity to build a professional network. You could be an amazing artist, but if you don't know other artists or know people who can help get your work seen by others, what's the point?
Building a community of colleagues is also important, I think, as an emotional support system during the periods of self doubt that plague absolutely every artist I know.
It is because of the benefits of building a community of fellow artists that I am contemplating returning to school for an MFA in creative writing...but that's a topic for another post...
I completed my MFA in Fine Arts in 2004, and I'm currently looking forward to paying off the loans I took out for this degree for the next 25 years or so. (Hm, hopefully not that long...c'mon lotto! Big money! No whammies!)
In the couple years after I graduated, as I slowly accepted the fact that loan repayment was to be my new constant companion, I doubted many times whether the financial investment was worth it. I rarely make (visual) art now, and I have no desire to teach art at a college level (this was the goal of many of my classmates, as the MFA is the terminal degree in the field and required for nearly any teaching position). I could not afford even to work in a (generally not monetarily awesome) field related to visual art, as it was crucial that I start making significant money immediately to pay back Uncle Sam.
Well, I'd had such thoughts clear from my head for some time, but they were just reactivated tonight by an article by Dave Hickey in the March 2009 issue of Art in America: "Revision Number Six: Addictions." (Note: I do not understand the meaning of this title - perhaps if I'd been reading Art in America regularly I'd know what the heck this title is all about?) (Also note: I've always enjoyed Dave Hickey's writing - I think he has an intelligent unique voice, and he doesn't apologize for going against the grain once in a while).
Anyhoo...in this article, Hickey argues that no school program can create an artist (you either are one or you're not) and that school can in fact damage artists.
These are arguments that I've heard, and contemplated, before. I believe there's some truth to these arguments.
On the other hand, I can also readily see some benefits of art school. The most glaring benefit, in my mind, is the opportunity to build a professional network. You could be an amazing artist, but if you don't know other artists or know people who can help get your work seen by others, what's the point?
Building a community of colleagues is also important, I think, as an emotional support system during the periods of self doubt that plague absolutely every artist I know.
It is because of the benefits of building a community of fellow artists that I am contemplating returning to school for an MFA in creative writing...but that's a topic for another post...
Tuesday, December 23, 2008
New Skill
So I'm learning how to play bridge.
My boss hosts a weekly bridge gathering at her apartment near Washington Square Park. She and her friends have been meeting there for a year and a half. They have three regular players, but they are always struggling to secure a steady fourth player...this is problematic, as bridge requires exactly four players to play a game.
Anyway, my boss has been encouraging me to come and check it out for some time, partly because she has some sort of idea that I might be good at bridge. She knows that my brother is a world class bridge player - guess she's hoping it runs in the genes!
I had no idea at all how to play bridge before going to check it out for the first time last week. I've now gone to bridge night twice - the first time just to observe and ask questions, and the second time to sit in and play (and, of course, ask more questions).
I was amazed at how quickly time passed while I played. At one point I looked up to check the clock and noticed that three hours had passed almost imperceptibly. Who knew bridge could be so much fun?
I think perhaps I will stick with this bridge thing, continue to attend bridge night at my boss's apartment when I can. It's a tremendously complicated game - there's so much to learn, and it feels good to stretch my brain in a completely new direction. Plus, there's the added bonus of the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I can hope to understand my brother a tiny bit more.
My boss hosts a weekly bridge gathering at her apartment near Washington Square Park. She and her friends have been meeting there for a year and a half. They have three regular players, but they are always struggling to secure a steady fourth player...this is problematic, as bridge requires exactly four players to play a game.
Anyway, my boss has been encouraging me to come and check it out for some time, partly because she has some sort of idea that I might be good at bridge. She knows that my brother is a world class bridge player - guess she's hoping it runs in the genes!
I had no idea at all how to play bridge before going to check it out for the first time last week. I've now gone to bridge night twice - the first time just to observe and ask questions, and the second time to sit in and play (and, of course, ask more questions).
I was amazed at how quickly time passed while I played. At one point I looked up to check the clock and noticed that three hours had passed almost imperceptibly. Who knew bridge could be so much fun?
I think perhaps I will stick with this bridge thing, continue to attend bridge night at my boss's apartment when I can. It's a tremendously complicated game - there's so much to learn, and it feels good to stretch my brain in a completely new direction. Plus, there's the added bonus of the possibility that maybe, just maybe, I can hope to understand my brother a tiny bit more.
Sunday, July 27, 2008
My sister's third question...
Slowly but surely, I am working through them all. Here's her third inquiry:
3. What gives you the most pride in being a graduate of James H. Harrison Elementary in Laurel, MD? I know ... it will be difficult to pick just one.
My response:
Ah, Laurel, MD. My sweet hometown. Well, my hometown, anyway.
Some Laurel trivia:
-Laurel, MD is a strange, sprawling town that spans three counties. West Laurel (larger yards, some newer developments, higher income bracket) was (and still is, I believe) very different from my own South Laurel (townhouses, large apartment complexes, and some neighborhoods of modest houses).
-During my childhood, the population of Laurel (according to the sign that welcomed drivers to the town limits) was 16,000. This number seems way too low to be descriptive of the current population, however.
-My section of Laurel was in Prince George's County (PGC!), neighbor to Washington, DC, and birthplace of go-go music. Yeah, that's right!
So...James H. Harrison Elementary School is a small to medium-sized educational institution. We lived close enough to school to be able to walk, but far enough away for that walk to be some decent exercise.
But...hm, points of pride? Hard to say, Sarah. I do have some memories of Harrison that stand out more than others. I remember trudging to the school on snow days to sled down the awesome hills behind the school. I remember there was still a forest of trees behind those hills, and not a clear view of the Marlo Furniture superstore like there is now (thanks to "new development," i.e., destroying all the trees of my childhood to make way for giant parking lots and box buildings).
I remember Mr. Kowzun, the gym teacher, throwing me up in the air on my birthday...but instead of catching me, like he did all the other birthday boys and girls, he dropped me, leading me to land hard on my knee. I didn't have to participate in gym that day. And Mr. Kowzun made sure that I knew it was my own fault for being dropped (apparently I was "not holding my arms in such a way that would make it easy for me to be caught")...yeah, we had only the finest teachers at Harrison.
I remember Gary Love teaching me how to do the Running Man and the Cabbage Patch at our 6th grade classroom holiday party...hm, that was pretty awesome, I guess. OK, I pick that as my most proud Harrison moment: tapping into my inner groove - I haven't let go of my dancer self since.
3. What gives you the most pride in being a graduate of James H. Harrison Elementary in Laurel, MD? I know ... it will be difficult to pick just one.
My response:
Ah, Laurel, MD. My sweet hometown. Well, my hometown, anyway.
Some Laurel trivia:
-Laurel, MD is a strange, sprawling town that spans three counties. West Laurel (larger yards, some newer developments, higher income bracket) was (and still is, I believe) very different from my own South Laurel (townhouses, large apartment complexes, and some neighborhoods of modest houses).
-During my childhood, the population of Laurel (according to the sign that welcomed drivers to the town limits) was 16,000. This number seems way too low to be descriptive of the current population, however.
-My section of Laurel was in Prince George's County (PGC!), neighbor to Washington, DC, and birthplace of go-go music. Yeah, that's right!
So...James H. Harrison Elementary School is a small to medium-sized educational institution. We lived close enough to school to be able to walk, but far enough away for that walk to be some decent exercise.
But...hm, points of pride? Hard to say, Sarah. I do have some memories of Harrison that stand out more than others. I remember trudging to the school on snow days to sled down the awesome hills behind the school. I remember there was still a forest of trees behind those hills, and not a clear view of the Marlo Furniture superstore like there is now (thanks to "new development," i.e., destroying all the trees of my childhood to make way for giant parking lots and box buildings).
I remember Mr. Kowzun, the gym teacher, throwing me up in the air on my birthday...but instead of catching me, like he did all the other birthday boys and girls, he dropped me, leading me to land hard on my knee. I didn't have to participate in gym that day. And Mr. Kowzun made sure that I knew it was my own fault for being dropped (apparently I was "not holding my arms in such a way that would make it easy for me to be caught")...yeah, we had only the finest teachers at Harrison.
I remember Gary Love teaching me how to do the Running Man and the Cabbage Patch at our 6th grade classroom holiday party...hm, that was pretty awesome, I guess. OK, I pick that as my most proud Harrison moment: tapping into my inner groove - I haven't let go of my dancer self since.
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