National Art Education Association

Stories of the Important Teachers in Our LivesAuthor(s): Jerome J. HausmanSource: Art Education, Vol. 44, No. 4 (Jul., 1991), pp. 4-5Published by: National Art Education AssociationStable URL: http://www.jstor.org/stable/3193278 .

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Stories of the Important Teachers in Our

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Man is like a breath, his days are as a fleeting shadow.

In the morning he flourishes and grows up like grass,

In the evening he is cut down and withers. So teach us to remember our days, that we

may get us a heart of wisdom.

(adapted from Psalm 144 and 90, as quoted in Number Our Days, by Barbara Myerhoff, Touchstone Book, 1978)

During the 1990 New York State Art Teacher's Association convention, Audrey Flack, one of the general session speak- ers, reflected upon the crucial roles per- formed by teachers in our lives. She observed that each of us can remember a person or persons whose actions as a teacher have had a lasting impact in shaping what we have become today, "Each person can remember that very special individual," she stated. Looking around the crowded meeting space, one could observe many nodding, smiling faces. It was as if everyone was saying "Yes, I remember!" Then, Audrey did something that was both dramatic and moving. She asked that everyone call out the name or names of the individuals being remembered. The result was a chorus of

names - all different, some long, some short - but all being called out in remem- brance of "that special person who has made a great difference in my life." Every- one seemed to want to tell their story, everyone had particular images and events associated with that particular teacher.

No one among us lives alone. People and events make a difference in the shaping of self-image and personal iden- tity. Each of us develops a concept of "self" that is everchanging, subject to dialogues and interactions as memories and predispositions, hopes and aspirations interact with an evolving reality. Our mechanisms of "memory" serve as power- ful forces in the shaping of our lives. For those of us who are teachers, it is said that memories of how we have been taught serve as powerful models influencing the manner in which we teach.

Being called upon to remember the teachers who have influenced me became an occasion to remember and reflect upon many of the remarkable people whom I have come to know in my lifetime. As the years go on, this list changes. Memories are merged, and sometimes details are blurred or are even lost from conscious recall. Without my wanting to be overly sentimental or maudlin, I would stress that it is important that we not lose sight of these influences.

Ironically, it is at the time of a person's death that we pause to reflect upon what has been accomplished in a lifetime. We seek to identify meaning and significance in the life of an individual. We ponder means to sustain strengths and develop insights to inform future actions. As teachers our legacy is embedded in the memories of students, colleagues, and those who read of or hear about our efforts. Two such examples for me are my memories of Frederick Logan and Nancy R. Smith, friends and professional col- leagues who died recently. Both were important art educators. Each was a committed artist-teacher whose life's work

4 Art EducationlJuly 1991

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Lives - An Editorial*

involved sharing insights and passions about art with others. I suspect that they did not know each other personally. Yet, they would have enjoyed and been chal- lenged by each other as art teachers. In the mix of my memories there are many stories involving Nancy and Fred that now inform and enrich my understanding of art and teaching. These stories serve to guide my actions; they are now inextricably a part of my life.

I have been much moved by Roy Schafer's observation: "we are forever telling stories about ourselves. In telling these self-stories to others we may, for most purposes, be said to be performing straightforward narrative actions. In saying that we also tell them to ourselves, how- ever, we are enclosing one story within another." (Narration in the Psychoanalytic Dialogue in W.J.T. Mitchell, ed. On Narra- tive, University of Chicago Press, 1981, p.31)

Each of us experiences a kaleidoscopic flux of people and events. We tell others of these experiences. To some extent we define ourselves for others through the stories we tell. In our day-to-day lives, there is an important place for an oral history.

We should never lose sight of what Jerome Bruner called '"he immense repository of our past encounters." In his recent book Acts of Meaning (Harvard University Press, 1990) he speculated about the shifts that have taken place within the "cognitive revolution" - how our successes in developing a technological virtuosity have shifted us away from the essences of the arts and humanities or as he put it, how we are witnessing a revolu- tion in which "the Essential Self gave way to the Conceptual Self without hardly a shot fired." He laments how "we in psychol- ogy preferred to rely upon standardized research paradigms to 'define' our own concepts. We take these research para- digms to be operations that define the concept we are studying - tests, experi-

mental procedures, and the like. In time, these methods become proprietary, as it were, and come rigidly to define the phenomenon in question: intelligence is what intelligence tests measure." (p. 101)

The choice should not be an either-or selection between standardized research paradigms and the more personalized, contextually bound, sometimes metaphoric anecdotes or stories of our lives. Cultures other than our own provide vivid descrip- tions and accounts of tales and narratives that capture and communicate certain essences. These stories need to be perceived and understood as a totality. The power of these messages can become distorted or even trivial when parts are isolated, quantified, or taken out of context. We in Art Education have much to learn from the methods of Anthropology in the search for cultural meaning.

Who were the teachers that you remem- ber as having influenced your life? What are the essential procedures and qualities that gave meaning to their work? We need always keep in mind that there are different ways that these questions can be an- swered. For me, the memory of hundreds of art teachers calling out the name or names of people who exerted great influence in their lives is a powerful meta- phor. I wanted to pause and listen to each of their reflections and anecdotes. The enthusiasm with which names were called out is but the tip of the iceberg in a mass of memory. We need always keep in mind the power and compassionate organization of detail that can make up these stories. Indeed it would always be well for each of us to reflect upon the oral history accounts that will stem from our own life as a teacher.

Jerome J. Hausman

*1 am indebted to Amy Brook Snider for her description of a course she is teaching at Pratt Institute entitled Stories in Our Lives. A conversation we had while attending the New York State Art Teacher's Association convention had much to do with this editorial.

Art Education/July 1991 5

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