Models for Working with Youth in Community Arts

“Children” and “Youth” are key words in the Raymond Williams sense — meaning that while the terms appear to be natural reflections of reality, in fact they manifest social and cultural ideological processes. In “New Key Words: A Revised Vocabulary of Culture and Society,” (2005) the authors point out that “youth,” as a term, has a specific etymological meaning that has radically changed in the last 100 years. What was a pejorative adjective used to describe an uncivilized young man has become a collective noun describing both an ideal marketing category and a social problem deserving specific institutions — youth court, youth prison, youth clubs. “Youth” contains, at heart, a contradiction, as the term describes both state apprehension over individuals seen as potential threats to the productive business of the community, and a consumer culture energetically focused on pleasure, beauty and playful self-indulgence (380-383). Sociologists Chatterton and Hollands highlight in their 2003 book, “Urban Nightscapes: Youth Cultures, Pleasure Spaces and Corporate Power,” that mandatory schooling and child labor laws limit young people from the more “traditional” adult avenues of identity formation through career or work. Instead, young people draw on other realms, for example, fashion, music, sports, leisure and technology as markers or sources of identity creation (73-74).

“Youth” isn't just a descriptive marker of physical bodies or time passed or experience gained; “youth” exists as a complex theoretical concept created and recreated ideologically and contextually. While “youth” is a fluid term, an individual's or community's perception of that term — of what and who youth are, should be, et cetera — structures and controls policies, programs and relationships between and among adults and actual young people. For example, most people would have serious concerns if their city enacted a curfew for a small segment of the population. Imagine the outcry if say, Los Angeles or Phoenix created a law forbidding Asians or Chicanos from traveling out of their homes after midnight. Yet, numerous municipalities have laws regulating young people's ability to access or travel across public space. Youth curfews reflect the social belief that young people are chaotic, dangerous and need discipline. Structurally, a curfew preemptively assumes that all young people have criminal intent if left to their own devices. To understand “youth” as a key word is not to subscribe to hard and fast rules but rather to recognize that we all have multiple conceptual models mapping our understanding of what and who young people are and/or should be. In turn, these models structure the ways in which programs operate and the relational opportunities between adults and young people. Adults who wish to work with young people in noncustodial capacities (teachers, counselors, social workers, et cetera) must become aware of their own theoretical models patterning understandings of “youth.” These models are complex and multilayered complicated by age, culture, race, gender and class structures. To further confuse the situation — in addition to individuals' personal beliefs about young people, there are two central models structuring a majority of youth programming: the educative model and the youth development model. To work with young people using either model demands skill and training; diverse models, however, require diverse skills.1

Presumably, a majority of individuals intrinsically grasp educative models, since presumably most U.S. adults spent at least some time in a school. In fact, educative models suffuse the United States even outside of formal institutions like schools. While educative models can be quite different, they do share many specific traits. For one, educative models emphasize individual achievement. The primary constituents in educative models are discrete and singular — facts, students, books, learning styles. Secondly, educative models promote a competitive environment, even if one only competes against oneself. Progress under this model develops linearly with expectations that students will improve, move forward and continue to best themselves. Age as a marker of time passed becomes key under this developmental scenario. In Nancy Lesko's 2001 book, “Act Your Age! A Cultural Construction of Adolescence,” she points out that: “Age is a shorthand, a code that evokes what amounts to an 'epidemic of signification.' …[A]ge has become the main entry point to thinking within a developmental perspective” (p. 4). Adulthood is the normative state — the finished product — and youth is understood as a developmental condition marching toward adulthood and away from incomplete child-ness. This construct of development is naturalized through its relationship to the body, and to “move forward” in this model is to become more adult, more complete. President George W. Bush's 2002 reauthorization of the 1968 Elementary and Secondary Education Act (commonly called No Child Left Behind) codifies this sequential improvement under the term “Adequate Yearly Progress.” Schools are judged successes or failures by their ability to prove that all of their students made AYP.

A focus on the discrete individual further structures hierarchy and status in some interesting ways. For one, in a model that promotes adulthood as the finished product, age becomes reflective of status. Older youth have more power than younger youth. Skill level also correlates with both age and status since it is assumed that older kids will be intrinsically more skilled than younger ones. A younger child, however, who is particularly gifted in one arena (say math or music or soccer) might gain status over an older child with lesser skills. I want to reiterate the importance of noting that educative models depend upon a conception of the individual as solid and separate from others. Competitive markers like skill, age and ability reside within the individual, they belong to the individual. This further relates to a core U.S. American belief in the power of a person to overcome any situation through hard work and self discipline — seen in the common U.S. story of “the self-made man,” and even in the U.S. Declaration of Independence: “We hold these truths to be self-evident, that all men are created equal, that they are endowed by their Creator with certain unalienable Rights, that among these are Life, Liberty and the pursuit of Happiness.”

Schooling has a long history in the U.S. that begins prior to the American Revolution but the Land Ordinance of 1785 systematically set apart a section of land in all townships to support public education. Educational paradigms have deep roots in the U.S., and basic literacy has long been connected to both personal happiness and socio-economic mobility. It’s important to note that the educational paradigm depends on a conception of knowledge as “out there” and separate from individuals. Youth can learn the knowledge or master the skills being offered, thus incorporating the information into their own thinking, into their own bodies. The information or skill functions like a possession, rather than an innate piece of human nature or physicality. The way we use language in the United States highlights this fact. I have a certain skill. I own this knowledge. We get an education. This understanding of knowledge as idealized and detached further structures educative models in an interesting manner. Curricula tend to be fixed domains of set competencies or skills, and evaluations focus on whether or not youth fail, meet or exceed these fixed standards. This has the added affect of positing a “universal” youth — the “normal” or “average” individual who scores just-so on assessments. Individuals are discrete units; knowledge is a discrete domain; and teachers function as the bridge or intermediary between the two. Thus we say that teachers deliver a curriculum. Below, I have sketched out the primary relationship (Figure 1) between the student/learner, the teacher and the knowledge. Of course, educational systems are much more complex than I am representing them here. I believe it’s important, however, to look at the general givens of the educational mode in order to think about skills and standards, as well as the social structures and blind spots created within the model.

Whole shelves of books have been written on the constellation of skills needed to work with children and youth in an educative model. I want to merely touch upon a few of those general skills here. Artist/teachers must have a complete and thorough knowledge of their field or domain. Educative models depend upon a knowledge or skill specialist — an expert — and artist/teachers must be masters of their subject area(s). This has the added effect of structuring adult-youth relationships in this realm as expert vs. novice. The adults' knowledge is complete, finished and whole. The youths' knowledge is incomplete, surface and in process. In addition, artist/teachers also need competency in teaching techniques (delivery methods). At a minimum, teaching artists[*] must be able to effectively plan, implement and assess a session — a lesson design. There is a multiplicity of teaching philosophies with diverse associated techniques, for example: student-centered learning, participatory/experiential learning, back-to-basics and multiple intelligences. These diverse philosophies grow from the views and values of the educators and the community in which they reside. While they all define “truth” a bit differently, in general, educational theories share similarities structuring their techniques — principles, if you will, of the educational mode itself. I want to talk here about five specific educational skill areas:

I wish to reiterate that the above divisions are deeply interrelated and that I discuss them separately here for ease rather than any unique characteristic of the division itself.

Ability to parse information, build progressive skill sets and establish learning goals: Mastery a field or domain of knowledge does not necessarily mean an automatic and equal skill in teaching others to master that domain. In order to instruct, teaching artists must be aware of the innate organization of their field and be able to build programs of study addressing that organization. For example, curricula often develop structurally with simple information becoming more complex over time. A recent art class my five-year-old daughter took, for example, began by teaching the children about primary colors, then how to navigate the color wheel to produce secondary colors. When I first began learning how to play the bodhrán (a traditional Irish drum), I spent an exhaustive several weeks simply learning how to hold the drum and manipulate the tipper (doubleheaded beater). Instructors must know how to divide field information in such a way that learners can progress from basic understandings to more complex skills. Parsing information also means being able to predict how long students will need to linger at any one level. In other words, what are the fundamental tenets of a field and what are secondary facts or skills? Finally, a knowledge domain has two distinct sections that demand different learning goals — knowing and doing. All domains contain certain given facts, histories and philosophical belief systems but they also contain skill sets. For example, in my field of theatrical performance, an acting student needs to know how to score a script, create a character history, physically embody a character, vocally project and enunciate — performance skills. That student also must be aware of the historical differences in performance techniques (like, for example, the differences between the techniques of Meyerhold and Brecht), be able to chart the development of realism and naturalistic acting methodologies (like Chekhov and Arthur Miller), and have basic literacy with regard to poetic verse (e.g., Shakespeare) — performance history and theory. Educators often refer to this distinction as the difference between domain facts and domain skills. There are no hard and fast rules about maintaining balance between facts and skills; each group of individuals and each teaching artist will demand different outcomes.

Understanding the audience/learner/student both as an individual and as a member of diverse cultures: Skilled teaching artists also understand that each young person learns differently and must be able to adapt teaching methods to meet individual and cultural needs and abilities. On one level, different students will belong to different cultures, which will locate what information students already have and how that student accesses cultural capital. A student growing up in a small, upper-class, Baptist family for instance, will have some forms of cultural capital, and a student growing up in a large, working-class Catholic family will have other forms of cultural capital. Gender roles, expected behavior patterns, what counts as “education,” languages spoken, common stories told — all of these depend upon the multiple cultures we access. For example, a young person raised in a secular family likely will not have familiarity with Biblestories. However, many of Shakespeare’s plays depend on clear familiarity with religious narratives. If I am teaching a course in theater history, I cannot assume a basic literacy in Christian religions and must take this into account in my planning. A student raised in a small village in the Sudan probably will not be familiar with common U.S. childhood tales like “The Three Pigs.” As a teaching artist in an elementary school, for example, I cannot assume anything, but must learn about the needs and knowledges of my students. Teaching artists must be acutely aware of their own cultural givens in order to ethically meet the needs of their students. As a white woman raised in the western U.S., I value frankness and students who will ask probing questions. Many of my students, however, raised in cultures that revere teachers and elders, will not ask questions, frank or otherwise, because to do so is to question the authority of the teacher. As someone who works with students from multiple cultural, ethnic, linguistic and national backgrounds, I need to build mechanisms into my lessons in order to allow all types of students to provide appropriate feedback.

To talk about culture and/or ethnicity is not to be racist. Many teachers and preservice teachers are uncomfortable speaking candidly about racial/cultural difference and will comment when asked that they “do not recognize difference in their classrooms.” They tell me that they do not “see” the color of their students but treat each student as an individual. That is a patently false statement, and, invariably, only white teachers comment in this way. Caucasians are the only individuals allowed to assume that their knowledge/culture capital is the “universal” way of life. As such, many whites grow up thinking that they are without culture. However white, middle-class culture is pervasive, even invisible, and as a result middle-class whites often are not given the tools and languages to talk honestly about cultural difference. This lack of appropriate language can make individuals uncomfortable. But to acknowledge race or culture is not to be racist — to pretend not to acknowledge race, however, runs that risk. Again, both the teaching artists' and the students' cultural backgrounds structure their cultural knowledge and access to social resources.

Beyond cultural background, individuals also have diverse abilities and learning styles. Howard Gardner's 1983 (revised 2006) book, “Frames of Mind: The Theory of Multiple Intelligences,” posits that the “traditional” notion of intelligence is far too limited. Gardner, an education professor at Harvard, suggests that there are eight realms of intelligence:

Schools typically reify only the first two realms, linguistic and logical-mathematical, but Gardner's theory of multiple intelligences captures further the complexity of human wisdom, skill and social achievement. These multiple intelligences have direct impact on teaching methodologies since they outline eight different ways in which a lesson can be delivered. One doesn't need to use all eight, of course, but the possibilities are exponentially beyond the traditional lecture demonstration. Some artistic genres Gardner stresses are intelligences in and of themselves — spatial and musical intelligence, for example. This is not to say, however, that music or art can only be taught using their own modalities. As a teaching artist, I use Gardner's theory of multiple intelligences to plan and to assess my students' understandings. For example, teaching my graduate students how to see and read power in diverse environments: My students can read about power to develop a complex understanding of how power is expressed (linguistic). We can study mathematical formulae and/sociological statistics expressing the diverse ways in which societies practice power (logical-mathematical). We can use images to “read” power, for example in popular magazines and newspaper advertising (spatial). We can find or create songs that talk about power, like Nelly Furtado's “Powerless (Say What You Want)” or the Rolling Stones' “Sympathy for the Devil” (music). I can ask them to create a creative movement piece or dance expression showcasing “power” or we can play a game, like Boal's Columbian mind-control, to explore power physically (bodily-kinesthetic). I can ask them to create and stage a scene exploring power, or to write a personal monologue about a personal experience (interpersonal and intrapersonal). Finally, I can ask them to observe a situation unfamiliar to them to notice how individuals practice power in that environment (naturalist). In each case, the students will be accessing the information differently, and incorporating that information into their own practices.

Basic familiarity with the strengths and weaknesses of different teaching modalities: Part of knowing how to address diverse learning needs is a clear understanding of the strengths and weaknesses of diverse teaching modalities. This allows teaching artists to make choices appropriate to the environment. Part of this familiarity comes from experience, and part results from planning. For example, if I am working with a group of kindergarteners, then I must assume that only a few of the children will be able to read and write. This limits the effectiveness of linguistic modalities. I can however read a story to them, or we can write a poem together if I am prepared to scribe. I must also find a balance between on-their-feet activities and quiet activities. Too much of either will not meet the needs of the group as a whole. I must also be aware of the limitations of the environment. A group of 20 will have a difficult time playing a running game within a tiny space; a library space likely does not lend itself to loud drumming activities.

Classroom management, leadership behavioral strategies: Teaching artists must be able to read an environment and to practice effective class management, streamlining administrative tasks to maximize time spent immersed in the domain lesson. Generally, the ratio of young people to teaching artist/s is high within an educative domain. Working effectively with 20 students demands different sets of skills than working effectively with ten. In general, educative paradigms posit a hierarchical control structure whereby the teacher deserves the respect of the student simply by virtue of their relationship as student and as teacher. While different institutions address this hierarchical structure in different ways, nevertheless, learners within this paradigm are expected to behave with a certain modicum of respect; teachers are expected to be experts and to lead the class effectively. As an educator, I personally prefer positive discipline techniques (catch them being good and reward positive behavior) rather than negative discipline techniques (punishment). Diverse environments will use diverse discipline techniques, however, and as most teaching artists are guests within institutions, it is up to the teaching artist to discover and use techniques appropriate to the environment. With younger students, I tend to use a call-and-response song as my “control device.” With older students and adults, a quick bump on the lightshelps to bring attention back to me when necessary.

Assessment and evaluation of learning outcomes: Finally, teaching artists need to be able to assess learning and to warrant their claims. What was learned in a specific moment, and how do we know this? Were the young people able to master the skills needed to complete the activity? If not, what skills did they master; where do they still need help? Working within an educative paradigm often means using educative language and assessment strategies. I suggest that teaching artists become familiar with and use either their state learning standards or the National Art Standards. The standards were developed by a national consortium of arts education organizations and list what every student, K-12, should be able to do in the arts. The standards can be found at http://artsedge.kennedy-center.org/teach/standards.cfm. A clearly written and executed lesson plan will have assessment strategies built into it. Such rubrics will clearly communicate with principals, parents and classroom teachers.

The other primary model structuring youth work is youth development. Development can be understood on multiple levels. In the 2001 edited volume, “Trends in Youth Development,” authors MacDonald and Valdivieso point out that a perspective in youth development starts with three simple questions: “What kinds of human beings do we want all of our children to be? What skills do we want them to possess? What do we want them to be able to do to succeed in adolescence as well as adulthood?” (172). A primary difference between educative models and development models is an understanding of development as a process not an end. When used casually the word, “development” refers to the biological processes of physical maturation. We cannot, however, divorce physical processes from ideological conceptualizations of those processes, so development models, like educative ones, can posit young people as incomplete adults. However, unlike educative models, youth development models do not automatically assume a binary construction of adult/child, complete/incomplete, being/becoming. Development should be understood as a life-long journey; competence, for example, has no fixed upper limit. A youth development model then does not place information or knowledge out there and separate from the individual. We do not “get” developed nor do we “have” development. Rather, we develop. Development, then, can be understood to be a more organic structure, innate to the human condition rather than an imposed or mechanical one. In “A Theory of Human Motivation,” a 1943 article published in the journal Psychological Review, Abraham Maslow posited that all humans have basic survival and growth needs. Maslow ranked these needs into two basic categories: deficiency needs and growth needs. While later researchers and theorists have quibbled with Maslow's hierarchical rankings, they remain useful categorizations. Deficiency needs include those basic requirements that all organisms must have met to survive: physiological (food, water, shelter, air) and safety (security of body, of resources, of health). In addition, Maslow posits that humans have two other deficiency needs: love/belonging (friendship, family, sexual intimacy) and self esteem (self-esteem, confidence, respect of others). Without meeting these basic needs, humans cannot progress and grow. If a human's basic needs are not met (food, for example), then the need for food will occupy that individual's thoughts to the exclusion of all else. The final category of needs Maslow calls growth or being needs. If an individuals' basic needs for food, shelter, safety, belonging and esteem are met, then those needs cease to motivate behavior. However, growth needs have no fixed upper limit and include cognitive needs and aesthetic needs — needs that Maslow labels “self-actualization” or the process of becoming the best person one can be. Maslow's hierarchy of needs is a useful construct for the youth development paradigm and points to the difference between social-service delivery (programs that help youth meet their most basic deficiency needs) and positive youth development programs which tend to focus on love/belonging, self-esteem and self-actualization. Youth development models do not depend on fixed curricula but rather employ loose structures allowing youth to control their own experiences and be the experts in their own lives.

Like educative models, youth development models are diverse but share a core set of principles structuring interactions. Philosophically, youth development models work within a positively oriented or assets modality. Youth development programs focus on young people's strengths rather than their deficits. The Family and Youth Services Bureau of the U.S. federal government identifies four key components research links to young peoples' success: competence, usefulness, power and belonging (3). In 1990, the Search Institute created a list of 40 internal and external developmental assets critical for youth to thrive (http://www.search-institute.org/assets/). And in 2002, the National Research Council and the Institute of Medicine of the National Academy of Sciences issued a report summarizing the critical domains of youth development which used the terms “personal” and “social assets” (http://www.nap.edu/catalog.php?record_id=10022). Each of these three publications conceptualizes development slightly differently, although there is vast overlap. The Search Institute and the National Research Council statements back their reports with high-quality research. It’s key that each distinguishes positive youth development from so-called “prevention” programs that focus on eliminating problem/risky behavior, like licit or illicit drug use, unprotected sexual activity, school drop-outs, et cetera. While youth development programs might also focus on eliminating or constraining problem behaviors, they primarily focus on asset development and stipulate that constructive problem solving focuses and builds on strengths.

I generally use the National Research Council outline of personal and social assets, as the report combines both practical wisdom with well-theorized and research-substantiated documentation. In addition, the NRC categorizations leave room for cultural differences, as the report notes:

The National Research Council divides personal and social assets into four distinct domains: physical development, intellectual development, psychological and emotional development and social development. These domains represent research on what qualities successful individuals share even in the midst of trying circumstances, and can promote effective program design, implementation and evaluation. The report suggests that the more assets a young person has, the more likely s/he will experience future or current well-being (73). They also note that, “it is beneficial to have assets in each of the four general categories” and “within each general category, one can do quite well with only a subset of the many characteristics listed” (73). The full list of personal and social assets includes:

Using this list, youth development programs can set goals, evaluate procedures and create new programming. While no one program can (or should) try to promote all of these assets, a clear focus on what values steer a program can help guide the services, supports and opportunities provided to their youth.

Interestingly, a strengths model does not inevitably correlate with young people's age. Generally, youth development programs do not automatically separate young people into age categories but tend to allow young people to self-segregate. Power and status is constructed quite differently in youth development models than in educative models. For one thing, status and power are less fixed within this paradigm. That is not to say that power and hierarchy are not present, as all groups of people use power and position to organize themselves. Status, however is less automatic, and power flows more freely within a youth development paradigm. This flux means that resident artists need to be highly aware of the circulation of power among the youth themselves as well as among adult-youth relationships. Unlike an educative model with its hierarchical control structures, a youth development model does not lend itself to set power relationships. While an expert-novice relationship can be found within youth development models, it is not the prime relationship. Control, then, is also less hierarchical within a youth development model. Generally, adults and young people share power. For example, a youth development program will ask youth to be a part of any evaluative process. Youth often design their own programs and/or provide governance in youth development programs. This lateral control structure highlights the importance of deliberative dialogue techniques, shared leadership approaches and skills in facilitation.

Another shared trait of youth development models, they are primarily relational. In most cases, young people connect because they wish to engage, not because they are compelled. This can create space for more evenly balanced relationships between adults and young people. Literature in the youth development field has grown exponentially in the last ten years, but I wish to highlight here a few of the diverse skills needed to work with children and youth within a youth development paradigm. A skilled community artist must have the ability to create safe environments, build trust and foster opportunities for authentic communication. Resident artists working within this paradigm need to understand how to perform deep listening and to provide appropriate feedback, paying attention for opportunities to raise young people's awareness of choice/consequence structures. Perhaps most important, resident artists must be able to skillfully and ethically build relationships with and among young people. Like all relationships, adult-youth relationships here depend on honesty and mutual respect. Reciprocity then becomes key within this paradigm with the recognition that we all learn from one another. To facilitate means to pay close attention to group and individual processes not just the content and substance of the lesson, meeting, or program. To work within a youth development paradigm requires resident artists to expand their ability to balance process and product.

This essay is part of the Community Arts Convening & Research Project, 2008, funded by a Nathan Cummings Foundation grant to the Maryland Institute College of Art. The essay was reviewed and selected by the project's Editorial Board: Ron Bechet, Xavier University of Louisiana; Lori Hager, University of Oregon; Marina Gutierrez, Cooper Union; Ken Krafchek, Maryland Institute College of Art; Sonia Manjon, California College of the Arts; Amalia Mesa-Bains, California State University Monterey Bay; Paul Teruel, Columbia College Chicago; and Stephanie Woodson, Arizona State University.

Stephani Etheridge Woodson, Ph.D., is an associate professor in the School of Theatre and Film at Arizona State University in Tempe, Arizona. She teaches in the M.F.A. and Ph.D. programs in child drama and is the artistic director of the Place: Vision & Voice program, a community-based digital storytelling and performance program for youth. http://artswork.asu.edu/pvv/

Bennett, T., L. Grossberg and M. Morris, eds. New Key Words: A Revised Vocabulary of Culture and Society. Oxford: Blackwell Publishing, 2005.

Chatterton, P., and R. Hollands. Urban Nightscapes: Youth Cultures, Pleasure Spaces and Corporate Power. London: Routledge, 2003.

Eccles, J., and J. A. Gootman, eds. Community Programs to Promote Youth Development. Washington, D.C.: National Academy Press, 2002.

Gardner, H. Multiple Intelligences: New Horizons in Theory in Practice. New York: Basic Books, 2006.

Lesko, N. Act Your Age! A Cultural Construction of Adolescence. New York: Routledge/Falmer, 2001.

MacDonald, G. B., and R. Valdivieso. “Measuring Deficits and Assets: How We Track Youth Development Now, and How We Should Track It.” Trends in Youth Development: Visions, Realities, Challenges. Ed. P.L. Benson and K. Johnson Pittman. Boston : Kluwer Academic Publishers, 2001. 156-186.

Maslow, A. H. “A Theory of Human Motivation.” Psychological Review 50 (1943): 370-96.

Putting Positive Youth Development into Practice. Washington, D.C.: Family and Youth Services Bureau, 2007.

[*] I have arbitrarily used the term, “teaching artist” to denote art workers within an educative paradigm and the term “resident artist” to denote art workers within a youth development paradigm.

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Models for Working with Youth in Community Arts

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