The Children of babylon

Twenty years ago, I began one of the greatest cultural journeys of my life. Although I did not have any formal pedagogical training, I received the fortuitous invitation to be a visiting artist in a daycare in Oberlin. 

At the time the Ohio Board of Education was sharing with teachers the findings of a pedagogy devised in Italy during the Sixties: specifically, an early childhood center in Reggio Emilia had produced extraordinary results applying the theories of the multiple intelligences of the learner.  In this method, a holistic view was applied where nurturing the young student was organically related to the school structure, the life of the parent families, and the community at large. These studies, the possibility of applying this knowledge, and the infectiously inspiring energy of the youth made me want to continue on the path of integrating this methodology. Alas, what I experienced outside that initial situation in Oberlin was a completely different story.

What I found in the classrooms, after-school programs, detention homes in Lorain County, and in the challenged neighborhoods of Cleveland were the victims of a wider economic downturn. Here, vicious cycles of unemployment, poverty and neglect went hand in hand with the defunding of local public services and educational institutions for young learners. From the disintegration of family structures to lead poisoning; from moldy buildings to unhealthy foods in the cafeteria; it seemed and still seems to me that being a young person growing up in certain environments is a very tough predicament. I am filled with rage at realizing this horrific narrative that runs parallel to an unquestioned largesse of public funds bestowed on the military, on alleged projects of development, and billionaire companies and financial enterprises that are ‘just too big to fail.’

Disregarding the well-being and positive growth of children is criminal, and even more so when great public fanfare is given to patriotic and religious values. With more than just shortsighted management and widespread corruption, it appears that there might actually be a strategy in place to keep the populace ignorant and malnourished, to generate more cannon and prison fodder now that machines are replacing factory grunts. To oppose this frightening trend, to connect and respond to future grownup citizens of our world is more relevant and revolutionary now than ever. In fact, it is crucial.

But what can I do about this disaster? I try to be present and channel amazing power and vision that taking creativity seriously showed me. I still load my van and go to different centers to make art with kids— I try to listen, offer possibilities, keep conversations going, and validate the relevance of their efforts. These very labor-intensive artworks are snapshots of situations I have witnessed over the years, pictures in my mind that I cannot un-see, and that remain eminently symbolic to me. The deranged insistence of making huge pieces of colored paper and carving giant wood blocks to print on them was a therapeutic way to tell my community and society at large that we all need to do better about considering children.