Public Pedagogy of Everyday Objects
My home is my nest. It is a space I have carefully constructed to feel secure, to feel protected. Each pillow, lamp, and chair carefully selected to create comfort. The colors and scents reflective of the image I present to the world. My nest is my space, when I enter it I feel a return to the familiar. The familiar is one in which I have constructed. After viewing Pepón Osorio’s sculptures, I made a connection between the art in which he has intentionally and purposefully created and the narrative constructed often unintentionally in one's home. In contrast, Do Ho Suh brings forward the theme of home being a relative concept. Something not necessarily physically, but more of a spirit or embodiment of home that can be fluid or transfered. I connected with this as my home or feeling of home is often just a reflection of my sense of self. My sense of self can be transported to the cafe in which I drink my Sunday coffee or the yoga studio in which I teach my Tuesday night class. Most importantly, I think about the way in which I carry my home with me to my classroom and the impact that may have on my students.
This wondering left me reflecting on how much of myself nest I have carried into the classroom. I have made it a priority for my room to feel as 'home-y' as possible. I have included pillows, rugs, salt lamps, essential oil diffusers, string lights, etc. I include this in a belief that the classroom should be a safe, comfortable space. I now question whose definition of comfort I was recreating. Reading about Visual Culture and the stories that are created by the arrangement of a classroom further prompted my questioning. In my efforts to resist the bolted down chair aesthetic, I have created what I previously believed to be a space that represented a community, a democracy. Can a space be representative of the values and beliefs of the people inhabiting it if it is not co-created? This is an idea I will be questioning as I continue to think about how to make a classroom a meaningful and representative space.
The table I spend the most time around is my table for one. This table represents my independence, the home I have created for myself. Growing up, my family gathered around a large table. It was a place to share stories, to come together over food representative of cultures and traditions. Every family member had a space, a place to be a part of something greater than the individual. The large oval oak gave everyone a chance to contribute. Today, my table for one is the space in which I drink my coffee, complete work, and eat dinner. Differing drastically from the table of my childhood, this table represents independence. Similarly to the themes addressed in Do Ho Suh's work, this table does not mean I do not continue to hold space at the family table, the table of my lineage. Multiple identities and senses of belonging exist simultaneously and in many ways impact one another.
One function of the family table is as a catalyst for conversation. Judy Chicago's The Dinner Party demands a conversation, as the entry banners not only are visually compelling, but also convey the contributions of women to society. The place settings undoubtedly convey a message of strength and pushing limits. This monumental work represents the way in which a table is a central meeting place. In Suzanne Lacy's International Dinner Party, the conversation seems to be centered around the idea of commonalities. The idea of a gathering place, often around a meal, seems to transcend cultures and traditions. Whether in the home or in the classroom, the arrangement of items such as tables and chairs can hold deeper meaning than just functionality.
I love the idea of making your classroom feel as "homey" as possible. I follow some teachers on social media, and it is fascinating to see their classrooms morph as they try to explore flexible seating as an option or reward for their students. I know I had a hard time sitting in my desk chair all the way through college. I can recall in middle and high school being reprimanded for sitting on desks, on the floor, etc. At home, and in the art studio, I often sprawl out materials, and shift my seating/laying/standing often. How can I expect a student to follow the directions I know I cannot myself? In my classroom, I allow my students the choice to sit or stand, and if they request, they can often work on the floor. Many of my little guys (pre-k to 1st) find that it is easier to work large on the floor, allowing them to reach all of their materials and the entire paper or canvas. It creates a welcoming and accessible space for them. It sounds like you are also trying to accomplish that in your classroom!
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