This week I read the article “Dancing teacher into being with a garden, or how to swing or parkour the strict grid of schooling” by Susan Gerofsky and Julia Ostertag (2018). I found this article interesting but difficult to read, as it has a philosophical, but also critical, take on the current structures (the grid) that have been ingrained into our society and therefore educational practices. The article attempts to provide educators with ways of teaching inside/outside of the grid structures, or alternatively, ways of seeing the grid from a new perspective so as to reimagine the possibilities within the grid.
Essentially, our society is built upon the very linear (or grid) Western point of view. Whether it’s time, data tables or architecture, evidence of the grid system is all around us. It can feel comfortable, logical, and clean. However, it’s actually a representation of our need to control and organize the unpredictable nature of our world. Whether it’s exerting dominance over new territories through gridded maps, or sorting hundreds of students into timetables, we use the grid to help us feel in control and powerful.
Some examples of grids in my life!
(Kitchen linoleum) (School calendar)
Exploration of gardens and other outdoor spaces is proposed to be one way of rejecting the grid. Outdoor spaces encourage multisensory learning, as opposed to the indoor classroom that depends heavily on vision for learning. Making use of multiple senses alongside vision works against the “inherently visual lines of the grid”. It also allows for students to explore their creativity, imagination, and the roles of teacher and student become blurred as students share their knowledge and experiences.
But how do teachers escape the rigid, time-based structures of their day? Even if a teacher moves their class outside, they’re still bound by bells, schedules, and even the days of the week. This love/hate relationship poses a problem for the teacher who is attempting to reject the grid.
STOP - At this point in the article, the authors delve into an exploration of stepping out of clock time and into dreamtime. They describe a learning experience within the UBC gardens in which students and teachers napped together and then shared their dreams which were creatively captured through sewing, drawing, etc. Maybe it’s just my inability to let go of conventional structures and my concept of time, but I found this very difficult to relate to. I just can’t imagine myself completely letting go and not having eyes on my students at all times. It made me wonder if this experience only worked because the students were adults? Or am I the problem and this would be totally realistic in a typical highschool setting?
In acknowledgement that teachers must work within the very strict and rigid time and space structures that construct education, the ideas of swing dancing and parkour are used as analogies to describe how teachers can work within and outside of these structures.
STOP - These terms require an explanation in order to fully understand the analogies.
“Swing is extreme coordination. It’s maintaining balance, equilibrium….Everything about the swing is about some guideline and some grid and the elegant way that you negotiate through that grid.” (Marsalis, 2011) In essence, swing dancing requires moving “from, past, and back in sync with the beat.” When compared to education, the beat is the rigid grid system we are bound within, and teachers can swing in and out of the grid, but always moving in time with it.
“Parkour remaps and even recreates urban space, creating a city parallel to the one defined by rigid structures and grids” (Geyh, 2009, p. 158) Parkour is a way of moving efficiently and fluidly through urban spaces in a way that subverts the structures intended uses. It reimagines the grid system in order to move faster and more elegantly. This analogy invites educators to reimagine the grid they are confined within, and if needed, to work against the hierarchies, systems, and structures.
The article ends with more questions than answers. In particular, how will teachers adapt to a rapidly changing society, environment and climate? Will they be able to step outside of the grid, or remain stuck in its familiar comfort? What implications will this have on our students as they face an uncertain future?
Final Thoughts - I found this article to be both inspiring and depressing. I connected with the authors’ descriptions of the rigid timetables and structures in education, as that is a source of constant irritation within my own teaching practices. I often feel confined by the rotating block schedule, length of each class, and even the months that school is in session. My teaching partner and I spend an inordinate amount of time trying to plan our lessons in a way that allows for more freedom and flexibility within these structures, and it’s exhausting. So I was inspired by the author’s analogies, and suggestions on making use of school gardens to work against the grid. I was simultaneously depressed by how prevalent the grid system is within my reality, the exhaustion of working around or against these structures, and how oppressive they are to those without a western world view.
Do you feel confined by the grid system? In what ways? How do you see yourself swinging (working in and out of the grid) or parkouring (working against the grid)?
References
Gerofsky, S., & Ostertag, J. (2018). Dancing teachers into being with a garden, or how to swing or parkour the strict grid of schooling”. Australian Journal of Environmental Education, 34(2). 172-188
Geyh, P. (2009). Cities, citizens, and technologies: Urban life and postmodernity. New York, NY: Routledge.
Marsalis, W. (2011) PBS Newshour interview with Jeffrey Brown, June 11, 2011. Retrieved May 2017 from http://www.pbs.org/newshour/bb/entertainment-jan-june11-marsalisjazz_06-01/>
Activity
I chose to stay inside to complete my sketches, as the weather was very wet this week! Disclaimer here, in that I’m a terrible artist and these took me longer than I’d like to admit. I’ve titled them in hopes of clarifying what they’re supposed to be.
I started with a human made thing first, as I believed it would be easier with the straight lines and predictability of an immobile object. I was quickly proven wrong when I struggled to mimic the rigid pattern of lines on my placemat. It turned out to be a lot harder than I predicted, and I think it’s because of my desire to make it perfect. I was less forgiving of myself when sketching the human made objects.
When I sketched the living things, I started with another immobile object in the form of a cactus. I gave myself grace when I couldn’t mimic the curved lines exactly, or recreate the shading along the ridges. Finally, I did a quick sketch of my husband as he sat at the kitchen table on his phone. I’m the most proud of this one, as I feel it turned out the best despite him moving around occasionally. I remembered a lesson I had the art teacher do with my math class on proportions a few years ago. In that class we practiced doing 30 second sketches of her while she posed. She encouraged us to think of the overall shapes and their proportions to each other, rather than obsessing over the small details such as facial features. She then showed us how to blend the shapes together to create a more lifelike figure. I used these tips when creating this sketch, and I think it worked out much better in the end.

