Preparing Students for Cyberspace!

Digital Art and Lego Starship by: Jim DeCesare

Is it possible to grow both towards technology and away from it simultaneously? This is the conundrum I find myself in. The paradigm is no longer shifting in education…it has shifted to all-things-digital, especially the lens through which we view primary, secondary (and post-secondary) education. Our students are not merely incorporating technology. They are now considered digital citizens.

I gave a presentation entitled, Creativity in the Digital Age at technology conference recently. During the question and answer portion, a professor in the audience told me that he sees the world through the lens of Venn diagrams (labeled, intersecting circles to explain complex content simply). At the end he handed me a business card with a Venn diagram sketch of my talk with two merging circles…one labeled “art,” the other labeled “digital,” and the intersection of the two was labeled “creativity.” The professor was well intended, but I asked myself, ‘Can creativity really be summed-up in a simple Venn diagram, so easily explained?’ I felt that the professor either missed the essence of my presentation, or I fell-short making my case…probably a bit of both.

Of course, it is the natural inclination for educators to seek clear and simple understanding of complex subject matter, and just as natural for this overly-sensitive-artist-type to yell to the heavens about the value of creativity! But this whole digital-thing in education needs a plan of action. I get it. Policy and creativity must play-well together so that we may best prepare our educational systems for the 21st Century.  

I recently led a brief meeting with colleagues to start the formal conversation in our school on digital responsibility. I asked a friend, a PhD in science (and Master's candidate in Curriculum Development) to share his presentation with the faculty based on a curriculum entitled, “Digital Citizenship,” by Mike Ribble. The key points of the curriculum are valid: teaching students digital law, etiquette, rights, responsibilities and so on. The presentation described a “Digital Citizen” as one who is in good standing as a resident, sharing common space with others and abiding by impartial laws.

To earn citizenship usually requires that one is a member by birthright or has taken an oath of loyalty. There are certainly grey areas of citizenship, but the concept is easily understood. Cyberspace is not so easily understood. It is nebulous, not linear. Cyberspace is our new frontier...wild and untamed. As educators, we are in a time like no other. My three year old daughter Annie Rose can now navigate an iPad gaining instant access to the world via internet!

No ceiling can limit the height of student achievement, and no floor can limit the depth of failure. Cyberspace is exponentially expanding, and unpredictable. We may call it digital citizenship (or whatever buzz-term we wish) to give it understandable form. The truth is we are asking students to stake-their-claim in a land where there is no actual fixed position.

Let us prepare students to explore this foreboding digital-realm by treating cyberspace more like outer space. Help each not to fear cyberspace, but to respect it's elusive, erratic, unconstrained, unpredictable and volatile nature. By all means, analyze data and form school policies that address key concerns!

Just as importantly, arm students with the ability to cultivate CREATIVITY, to tell their unique STORY, to find PURPOSE, to discover unique GIFTING, to build EMPATHY...to SEEK TRUTH. Encourage students in these ways to be well-prepared space travelers...to be Cybernauts! 

I believe we can move toward technology and away from it simultaneously; by reinvesting our energy on the character development of our students…along with…curriculum development and policy.

To infinity and beyond!!!!...Oh yeah, that's Buzz Light Year. Oops. 

Paying Homage to Robert Henri

 "If anything can be done to bring the public to a greater consciousness 

of the relation between art and life, of the part each person plays by 

exercising and developing his own personal tastes and judgment 

and not depending on outside “authority,” it would be well." 

                                                                        -Robert Henri

 

James DeCesare, Robert Henri, 

2010, oil on canvas, 24"x24" 

Collection of the Artist

A Brief History:
Robert Henri (1865-1929) was born in Cincinnati, Ohio.  In 1886, he studied at the Pennsylvania Academy of Fine Arts.  In 1888, Henri moved to Paris and studied under the great Academic painter, Adolphe-William Bouguereau (1825-1905). In 1891, Henri was accepted into the prestigious Ecole des Beaux-Arts.1

Henri’s early work was heavily influenced by art of the French Impressionists. Similar to the Impressionists of the day, Henri’s artwork was readily rejected by French and American art circles.2 Henri began organizing art exhibitions promoting work rejected by the art establishment. Henri’s circle of friends included young illustrators John Sloan (1871-1951), William Glackens (1870-1938), George Luks (1867-1933), and Everett Shinn (1876-1953). The Eight, as the group would come to be known, lead The New York City Armory Show of 1913. The Armory Show introduced audiences to avante-garde European and American artists including Gustave Klimpt (1862-1918) and Marcel Duchamp (1887-1968).3

Robert Henri taught at the Art Students League of New York from 1915-1927. Henri's students included George Bellows (1882-1925), Leon Kroll (1884-1974), Edward Hopper (1882-1967), and Rockwell Kent (1882-1971). Henri’s prophetic teachings were published in book form as The Art Spirit in 1923.3

Today, countless artists view The Art Spirit as their primary guide for life as an artist. Henri’s artwork speaks to his views on life. His paintings are sensitive, humanistic, authentic accounts of interpersonal experiences.  His words are transcendent, usually speaking more to the art of living than art making.  Robert Henri writes:

The question of development of the art spirit in all walks of life interests me. I mean by this, the development of individual judgment and tastes, the love of work for the sake of doing things well, tendency toward simplicity and order. If anything can be done to bring the public to a greater consciousness of the relation between art and life, of the part each person plays by exercising and developing his own personal tastes and judgment and not depending on outside “authority,” it would be well. 3
                           
On Painting Robert Henri:
Robert Henri is part of series I created called, Artists of Influence. The reoccurring theme connecting each of the six paintings of this series is the artist in the act of creating. Robert Henri was a champion of the creative process. Henri’s connection to the people he painted is evident in his work. His brushstrokes were minimal, yet each possessed purpose and feeling. In the midst of rigid, academic portraiture created at the turn of the twentieth century, Henri created painterly expressions honoring the humanity of his common sitters.

Among my favorite of these paintings is Spanish Girl of Segovia, painted in 1912 and part of the permanent collection of the New Britain Museum of American Art.  As a frequent visitor to the museum, I often observe the painting closely.  There is an intimacy I wanted to convey in my painting of Henri.

When viewing the painting of Robert Henri, you are faced with intentional ambiguities. Is Henri standing in front of his model or a painting of his model?  Each painting created for Artists of Influence is a fictional narrative designed to engage the viewer’s imagination. Viewers are encouraged to make their own conclusions.

In this narrative, Henri prepares to place a loaded brush onto an unforeseen surface. Emphasis is placed on the gesture of his face and his paint palette. There is an undeniable connection between the two figures. Both figures overlap and blend, forming one pyramidal shape. I created the painting from the perspective of a student stumbling upon a painting demonstration by Robert Henri. I envisioned the viewer in eager anticipation of the wisdom Henri will speak (as I would be!)

I created this painting of Robert Henri as a tribute to his humanity,

dignity, and passion for the creative process. 

In 

this 

digital 

age, 

his words speak louder than ever!

                                                                                                       
1.  National Gallery of Art. “American Impressionism and Realism,”
     http://www.nga.gov/exhibitions/horo_henri.shtm#biblio.

2.  Artcyclopedia, “Robert Henri,”
     http://www.artcyclopedia.com/artists/henri_robert.html.

3.  Henri, Robert. The Art Spirit. Philadelphia: Lippincott, 1923.

Faith Like a Child

My wife Kelly and I were awakened at 3am by our crying almost three-year-old, Annie Rose. Annie is newly potty-trained, and still has the occasional nigh-time accident. On this early weekday morning she had completely wet her bed.

I stumbled into her room, still half-asleep myself. Annie’s window and ceiling-fan were circulating comfortable summer-air. But she was cold, curled in the fetal position and crying…soaked in her soiled nightclothes and sheets. Observing her in this sad state reminded me of how very needy my smart, “independent” little girl is of her father.

I gently scooped up Annie from her wet bed. Her skin was cold and sticky to the touch and her body was rigid. Her long wavy hair was stuck to her round cheeks from tears and pee. She resisted my help, squirming and crying for mommy. We made our way in the dark to the bathroom.

Annie Rose’s cry was sad and fearful. Like any parent, my heart was flooded with compassion, love, and patience. I offered her my assurance that daddy was going to make everything okay. I gently wiped Annie’s shivering body with a warm facecloth and wrapped her in a dry towel. Only then did she stop crying (and resisting).

I put her into clean cloths and sat her on a chair while I changed her sheets. Annie wanted to know if Mr. Moon was out. I looked through her window skyward, then turned back to tell her that Mr. Moon was behind the clouds but she was already asleep. I placed her back into bed and headed downstairs.

Unlike Annie Rose, I was unable to fall back asleep. Each time I closed my eyes I saw myself in that frightened child: curled-up and soiled from sin…resistant to my Father’s help. I thought of how Christ attends to His children in much the same way; with compassion, love, patience and offering an assurance…that by trusting in the Father, He will not forsake me in my times of need…that the cost of my filth...my sins...were paid by Christ’s blood on the cross…and that in Him I am clean.

I am amazed by the things I am learning from my children!

"And calling to him a child, he put him in the midst of them and said, "Truly, I say to you, unless you turn and become like children, you will never enter the kingdom of heaven. Whoever humbles himself like this child is the greatest in the kingdom of heaven."

Matthew 18:2-4 (ESV)

Intentionality

Every part of her drawing has intention...you wouldn't think so with a two year old.  Annie will proclaim the color or shape before she draws; "dots, circle, triangle, yellow right here!"  And she uses the entire surface of the paper, corner to corner.  She is probably no more capable than other kids drawing at her age.  I find it interesting how difficult demonstrating, "intentionality" is for many of my art school-bound students preparing their portfolios.  Art schools tend to put this "spell" on kids...an over-emphasis to show their "voice" (in my opinion) at the expense of fundamental mastery of basic design and skill.  I would far prefer art schools to encourage my kids to be Students with a capital "S" over Artist with a capital "A." There is a difference.

Instructor of "Other"

"In what subject did you teach this student?" asks the, "Common App" form on Naviance....the website we upload recommendations written for our college-bound students.  Since, "Art" was not a choice, I clicked, "Other."

A few of the less-common things about school that annoyed me when I was a student:  As a young child I was embarrassed to be the only one using the green-rubber-coated left-handed scissors in the "special" cabinet...so I learned to use them righty.  I was especially annoyed (still am) by those freakin' right-handed desks...and we wonder why lefties look funny when writing!  I won't even get into my loathing for calligraphy, an art form not designed for this lefty.

Truth be told: I generally don't sweat the small stuff anymore.

But something big has been brewing for most of my many years as an arts educator; the need, the responsibility, the calling...whatever...to communicate the value of the arts.  Never been much of a cause-guy, but seems most of academia is still in the Dark-Ages about the arts.  So out of my studio, brush in clenched hand, I shall slither to take up the cause.  I am preparing to speak on two panels; a community college and high school symposium on Teaching the 21st Century Student.

I am also developing workshops tailored to corporations promoting the ubiquitous value of creativity. Corporations, after all, hire graduates, fill high school and college school boards, fund programs and greatly inform educational practices.  Figure I'll start there.

I have been greatly influenced by perspectives on creativity that have made global impacts including those of Daniel Pink, Sir Ken Robinson and my cousin Jon Iadonisi (Check them out on Google).   I am sold on creativity, will pound my chest and carry the torch!  Hoorrahh!  

Okay, maybe I shouldn't channel my inner William Wallace because that didn't end too well for him.  I guess a haircut and shave, clothes that aren't paint stained and some fancy flash cards will do.  Wish me luck!

Jim DeCesare
Instructor of "Other"

Pushing The Value of Creativity - My, 'Why?'

Dear Annie Rose,

I don’t have money, but daddy is still a very wealthy man.  While I adore your mother, the greatest miracle of my life was watching you and Madeline come into this world.  Shortly after you were born I heard Etta James, “At Last,” on the radio and wept:  “My heart was wrapped-up in clovers the night I looked at you.”  God bestowed fatherhood upon me the night you were born, a responsibility and joy still too great to comprehend!

Well, you are now registered for preschool!  Ouch!  You are playing on the doorstep of this great house of education that you will soon be residing-in for many years to come.  Listen, kid, I don’t care what you choose to become.  God gave us the task of loving you unconditionally, and celebrating your unique gifts. We do pray that you glorify the Lord in all that you do.  We will do our darndest to model this for you everyday, but ultimately the choice of how you live your life will be yours.  We just want you prepared.

This house of education I was talking about…its kinda old and needs a few repairs.  When things are broken, Dads seem to want to fix them even if they don’t know how.  You will learn soon enough, Annie Rose that life is neither fair nor equitable.  But if you feel moved by the Spirit to fix something broken (even if you don’t know how), and even if others think you are a nut job, I got your back.

The house of education you are about to enter is water stained and peeling eggshell white. I am not sure if that is even a color, or just a texture?  Anyway, I want to scrape and repaint every room before you get there.  I want to paint the ceilings with a fresh coat of empathy, the floors a durable coat of grit, the walls detailed with purpose, the long hallways covered with discernment…and the whole house illuminated by creativity.  Now that’s a house of education!

It’s insane, I know!!!  I don’t really know where to start, but they did give me a key (he, he).  Yeah, I will start with the parlor on the right as you walk-in…I’ll scrape and paint until others help-out, or they kick me to the curb.  In the meantime I’ll pretend like I am supposed to be there; the old confident-swagger trick.

Before we pack your lunch on that first day of school know this:  I don’t care what you learn as much as I care about how you learn, and especially how you see the world around you…and the way you treat others.  My advice; love the Lord, be a Renaissance woman…be creative.  

And if you see me emotional while listening to Etta James, you now know why!

Love,

Daddy

Putting Things in Perspective

I hate needles.  I have a visceral reaction to needles…I shutter when I am in proximity to one.  I have avoided them at all costs.  Our school nurse Jamie pled her case for me to help protect my family since the flu and infants don’t mix too well. 

I reluctantly made an appointment with her, but not before restating my complete aversion to needles.  I sarcastically asked Jamie if there would be someone available to hold my hand.  She responded with an email showing a Grizzly Bear poking his head through a tent door at a campground.  Her caption read, “WAY SCARIER THAN A FLU SHOT.”

I made an appointment with Jamie to receive the dreaded needle on Tuesday, but completely (or conveniently) forgot.  On Wednesday I manned-up and marched myself down to the nurses office located in the elementary school-portion of our campus.

I felt like a giant of a man striding past the wee-little coat racks and miniature furniture.  I seldom wander from my grown-up size habitat of the high school art building.  The door to the nurse’s office was open, but the light was out.  I peeked in and said, “hello?”  In the dark of the office, behind a screen I saw Jamie sitting with a little boy.  She was speaking softly and rubbing his back while he lay curled beneath a blanket.  Jamie gently indicated that it was ok to come in.

I sat myself down on the adjacent bed and was warmly greeted by nurse and patient.  The young boy sat up, offered a friendly greeting and shook my hand.  Although I had never met him, I immediately knew who he was, and why he was in the nurse’s office.

His name is Logan Schoenhardt and he is a second grader.  Not long after I sat down, Logan said as-matter-of-factly, “my cancer came back.”  Logan has been battling cancer for a few years.  After several remissions, the cancer has aggressively returned.  Our small school community prays regularly for little Logan and his family.

Logan said, “Look, they shaved my head again.”  I had never seen Logan without a hat and his thick bi-focal glasses.  Logan’s slightly-larger-than-normal cranium was marked by a spiraling-scar that ran from his temple to the far back of his head.  Logan was not bothered in the least by his appearance.

Logan asked why I was in the office and Jamie shared that I was receiving a flu shot.  I asked Logan how many needles he has received in his life.  He said with a wide smile, “a hundred, million billion.”  He then showed me the tube under his right arm, and between his ribs where he receives his chemotherapy.  Logan was resting from a recent treatment.

Jamie handed me a form to sign prior receiving the shot.  Logan noticed that I was left-handed like he was.  We talked about art and I shared that I teach his talented older sister in the high school whom he is clearly impressed by!  After a bit of small talk, Jamie sat to my right with the shot.  As I watched her tear the packaging, Logan (unprompted) walked over to me from his bed.  He stood directly in front of me, leaned on my left knee and held my left hand with both of his tiny hands.

I turned to see Jamie, but before my eyes could make contact with her (or the needle) Logan covered my view with his hand and guided my face to his.  He gripped my hand again with both of his, but this time squeezed repeatedly…like a beating heart.  His little hands were surprisingly strong.  Logan looked square into my eyes with his bright, unflinching stare and said, “now just look at me.”

Jamie administered my shot at the very moment his hands squeezed mine, and I truly felt nothing.  Logan softly, and compassionately said, “See that wasn’t so bad.”  Logan, a tiny second grader battling cancer, offered me his bravery, compassion, strength, protection, and love…for my flu shot. 

Logan had no idea of the impact he had made in that moment.  Nurse Jamie and I held-back the emotions we naturally wanted to express.  (Though I could not hold back my tears shortly after I left her office.)  Logan was simply being himself by modeling God’s love.

Well, I did asked for someone to hold my hand for my flu shot.  Thanks nurse Jamie, and thanks Logan! 

I no longer fear needles.

Please contact Joneen Monitto (jmonitto@masterschool.org) to inquire about how to donate to Logan’s extraordinary expenses.