Good Work: Ethics and Community Cultural Development with Children and Youth

In U.S. American culture, adults automatically have more power and more rights than young people. For example, adults vote but children and youth cannot. The 1988 Supreme Court’s Hazelwood decision determined that youth enrolled in schools are not guaranteed full rights of free speech. Municipalities also frequently create and enforce laws abridging other First Amendment rights; for example, youth curfews limit the right to peaceful assembly. Society-at-large values adult cultural capital more than young people’s identity constructions and youth/child culture. While I am sure each of us can think of exceptions to this statement, what is important to take away from this discussion is an awareness of the complex power dynamics and ethical dexterity demanded by community-based work with children and youth above and beyond similar work with adults. In this essay, I explore a few of the central tenets primary to building ethical relationships with youth in community cultural development processes. In particular, successful community-based work is grounded in a clear understanding of difference and power rooted in personal awareness and honesty. Of course, all community cultural development (CCD) residencies depend upon building ethical relationships, but work with children and youth further complicates the already multifaceted connections of artist-facilitators and participants.

Ethics is the philosophical inquiry into questions of morality and how individuals and cultures understand a “good” life. What do we mean when we say “good” person; or to live a “good” life? The Harvard Graduate School of Education’s research group, Project Zero, began investigating the concept of “good work” in 1996. I find their definition a helpful starting point to frame CCD practices. Project Zero defines good work as

work that fits two criteria: 1) the work itself [is] innovative (or creative); 2) innovative individuals or institutions [see] it as part of their mission to assume some responsibility for the implications of their work (1).

In other words, “good work” touches upon both the quality of the work and the moral or ethical implications of the processes and conclusions of the art, or, as the Imagining America Consortium (www.imaginingamerica.org/index.html) points out, acts that uphold a “commitment to public practice and public consequence.” I cannot emphasize this point too much: Community-based artists create a web of mutual connection and community but these ethical responsibilities are not merely relational—to the stakeholders and participants—but also include domain/field accountability. The term “good work” addresses both the social awareness of the art process and product and the quality of the art itself. CCD practices cannot be divorced from the traditional art worlds/homes of their artists. While diverse artists fall into diverse aesthetic camps, as Arlene Goldbard points out

The community/quality dichotomy invites posturing and polarization, supported by a thin reed of substance that almost topples under the weight of rhetoric it is made to carry. I see it as a false choice. No one sets out to make bad art (55).

I agree absolutely and further maintain that CCD artists not only have an ethical responsibility to the communities with whom they work, but also an ethical responsibility to their art form—that is, in fact, what makes the CCD practices a form of “good” work.

The field of ethics is generally subdivided into three branches: metaethics, normative ethics and applied ethics. Philosophers concerned with metaethics research where and how ethical concepts arise and what they mean. For example, there are long-standing philosophical arguments about whether or not “universal” moral standards exist. Many 20th century anthropologists worked cross-culturally in order to try and identify universal moral patterns. Normative ethics attempts to determine standards of behavior and moral conduct. The golden rule and the Old Testament’s ten commandments are prime examples of normative ethical standards or codes of conduct. Finally, applied ethics is concerned with answering specific ethical questions around a single topic or question, e.g., euthanasia or abortion. For the purposes of this conversation, I am most interested in normative and applied ethics as related to outlining practitioners’ ethical responsibilities in community-based arts practices with children and youth. Although CCD youth residencies are messy and fluid, demanding great relational and aesthetical flexibility, I believe all “good work” residencies share four ethical components:

1. Competence
2. Justice/Fairness
3. Appropriate Relationships (respect)
4. Shared Authority & Authorship.

But before I explore these four strands I would like to spend a moment exploring what Gardner identified in 1998 as the three historical factors limiting the misuse of professional work like science, scholarship and art:

First of all, there have been the values of the community, in particular religious values. For example, in principle a scientist could conduct experiments in which prisoners are exposed to certain toxic agents. But religion counsels the sanctity of all human life. A second balancing force has been the law. In many nations, prisoners are protected against unusual forms of treatment or punishment. Third, there is the sense of calling, or ethical standards, of professionals. For example, a scientist might take the position that a contribution to knowledge should not be secured at the expense of human or animal welfare; indeed, some scientists have refused to make use of findings obtained by the Nazis as a result of immoral experiments (4).

According to Gardner then, community values, the law and an individual’s personal and professional moral code are the primary limiting factors for creating immoral or even evil work. In an increasingly professionalized field like community cultural development, the ethics of the practice and in-depth exploration of individuals’ own moral codes must be included in any program of study. Frankly, we live in society driven more by market forces than by concern for human welfare or moral principles of justice, so we cannot depend upon a centralized “community value” to promote social justice and ethical practices. Likewise, the law hardly touches upon community cultural development practices unless we involve human subject review boards or copyright clauses. Not to mention, as a wise colleague pointed out recently, “What is legal is not always ethical, and what is ethical is not always legal.” We are therefore left almost utterly dependent upon what I would characterize as a barely coherent “professional” moral code and individual artists’ belief systems for guidance in “good work” practices.

The stakes within the realm of the arts, of course, are quite a bit different than, say, medicine or the biological sciences. I do believe, however, that unethical community cultural development practices can cause spiritual and community harm. A primary danger remains the misuse of CCD residencies to alleviate stress caused by structural or systemic inequalities. Such a use can short-circuit the transformation of inequalities or structural deficits by temporarily reducing the need for change without actually addressing the problems. For example, I once worked with an Arizona state division of social workers primarily focused on child-abuse intake and investigation. My course-based team and I created a piece of theater growing from the experiences and emotional sacrifices of these frontline social workers. We used intensive interviewing and oral-history techniques, shadowing, story circles and participant creative writing activities to build the piece. After a successful showcase of the performance piece, Child Protective Services (CPS) administration approached me about continuing the residency on a semi-permanent basis and as a continuing part of my students’ field experiences. The administration viewed the project as a cost-effective method (we were volunteers) of building team spirit and addressing retention issues. At the time, the latest round of state budget cuts had almost doubled each worker’s caseload while eliminating counseling and mental-health services for unit workers. After discussing the matter further with the unit workers and my students, we came to the conclusion that CPS administrators had their hearts in the right place, but were using the project as a band-aid to cover what was effectively a mortal wound. Such a situation could only prevent “good work.”

Alternatively, CCD practices also can promote identity practices that partnering institutions feel are antithetical to their own needs and values, which would also prevent “good work” in its fullest sense. I have written before about my fraught relationship with an alternative school on the Gila River Indian Community. I viewed my community partners as the indigenous youth and their families but neglected the school and its teachers. The schoolteachers understood themselves as the last chance opportunity for youth to “make it” and earn a high-school diploma. They cared deeply about their students and promoted rigid discipline and self-control as the primary means of success. Youth were allowed to perform only in narrowly understood ways. The lateral facilitation strategies and perhaps flamboyant performances of self I promoted in my work undermined the schools’ systems and controls. The moral code of the residency was compromised and its “good work” short-circuited by my mistakes and misunderstandings. While I may not agree with the choices made by school administrators, nevertheless I had an obligation to ethically practice a residency to maximize the good work.

My observations grow out of both my own practices as a CCD artist working with children and youth and as a graduate instructor teaching in an M.F.A. and Ph.D. theater for youth program. My students generally devote themselves to theater for young audiences because they have a deep and passionate belief that they can make a difference in the lives of young people and in the health of their communities. My students also can point to the theater arts as a defining force in their own lives. As such, my students bring a deep enthusiasm to their chosen profession, acknowledging how hard it is to make a living in the theater, but choosing theater anyway. As the 2007-2008 median salaries for Actor’s Equity and the Screen Actor’s Guild show ($7,340 and $12,840, respectively), only rarely can an individual support him or herself as an actor, director, designer or playwright. The field of theater in the United States is driven by a bizarre mix of the commercial and the nonprofit, with an unequal balance between the traditional values of the art form and the market forces driving play production, ticket prices, training programs and new-work development. Nevertheless, theater artists remain deeply invested in doing “good work.”

I believe these limitations also are true for artists of any medium who devote themselves to community-based youth practices: 1) only rare community-based artists can make a living solely in youth-focused CCD, and 2) the practices of CCD are inherently inconsistent, enfolding unbalanced forces that could include: funder restrictions and/or expectations; diverse understandings of “partnership” including government and private enterprise; contradictory conceptions of success; religious restrictions and/or conflicts; incompatible understandings of childhood; distrust toward adolescents as community representatives; and incoherent aesthetic values. Despite these inherent difficulties—and I feel sure that readers could add six or seven more from their own experiences—CCD artists are some of the most dedicated, hard-working and passionate individuals I ever have had the pleasure of meeting. From my experience, CCD practitioners and students/apprentices bring with them a deep passion for the work, a strong sense of themselves as actors in the world, a feeling of responsibility to young people and to their communities, and an ability to negotiate the inconsistencies of their chosen profession with their own internal moral codes. These gifts of the spirit combined with standards of ethical practice foster CCD “good work.”

To return then to what I believe are the four intrinsic components of “good work” practice:

1. Competence
2. Justice/Fairnes
3. Appropriate Relationships (respect)
4. Shared Authority & Authorship

Competence

Like nurses, engineers and chemists, community-arts practitioners have an ethical responsibility to be competent in their chosen profession. A word whose etymological roots live in compete, competence touches upon qualifications, mental and emotional capacities, legitimacy and the ability to function. I use the word here to encompass the ability to do something well. Competence does not mean just being a good performer or a good studio artist, but of course includes those things. Community cultural development with youth is a complex practice demanding complex competencies, and community-based artists have a fundamental responsibility to:

• understand and expand their primary artistic field’s practices and knowledges;
• comprehend and extend the knowledges and practices of community arts in general;
• know and practice both teaching skills and youth development skills as appropriate to the residency; and
• maintain a deep knowledge of self in context.

While I have spoken and written about the first three competencies elsewhere on CAN, I want to underline our ethical accountability for skill and knowledge in pedagogy, mentoring, art making and community cultural development. I do believe however that the key to maintaining an ethical CCD practice is a deep and fundamental knowledge of self-in-context.

All people construct the world through the lens of culture and ideology or belief systems. Ideas primary to our identity—like what it means to be a man or a woman; what skills we value in others; how we understand family; how we understand our bodies; what we mean by success, et cetera—are constructed. We have an ethical responsibility to know our cultural capital, to understand how we practice power, and to be aware of what I call our value-laden prejudices. We all have preconceived values that focus our judgments about people and the world. Everyone assesses the world through the lens of those values. I am prejudiced toward frankness and I value honesty. My mother-in-law values calm and is prejudiced toward avoiding conflict. As you can imagine, our value-laden prejudices radically influence our approach to disagreements, aggression and anger. In today’s world, “prejudice” has innately negative connotations. But I use the term here to mean a preconceived opinion that indicates bias based on personal and cultural belief systems. Everyone has personal and cultural belief systems. Everyone has bias. Mapping and negotiating personal values, cultural capital and beliefs is a life-long project. Competency in this—as in other domains—has no upper limit.

In my class and mentoring programs, I provide opportunities for students to map their values, categorize their belief systems and recognize their status and power within diverse scenarios. I use two metaphors to address cultural belief systems: the iceberg analogy and the diversity wheel that I have adapted from the United States Department of Health and Human Services 2005 publication, “Transforming the Face of Health Professions Through Cultural & Linguistic Competence Education: The Role of the HRSA Centers of Excellence.”

The iceberg analogy of culture points out that culture contains both the seen and the unseen, the known and the internalized. Culture, like an iceberg, only presents a small fraction of the whole to the surface eye. The following illustration helpfully illuminates aspects of this metaphor (129).

Click here to enlarge

In our complex and multicultural world, individuals must be able to map their own values and develop keen insight into how the cultures of their community partners will influence the assumptions and cultural capital of all involved.

Another useful graphic is the diversity wheel (130). This graphic was adapted by Kaiser Permanente from diversity workforce training programs in order to train medical professionals to recognize and relate to the multiplicity of diversities.

Click here to enlarge

In my training program, we take this just a bit further and also map status as related to diversity in order to contemplate how power operates. Power can only be expressed positionally, meaning that power is a complex web of relational forces. Using the above graphic, I can map my power from the internal ring to the external. I hold power in my university classroom because I am forceful and full of energy; because I am white, middle class and in my 40s; because I am trained in facilitation; because I have a Ph.D.; and because I am authorized by my relationship to the university and my location in the School of Theatre and Film.

Like my classroom, CCD residencies are not neutral spaces where artists and community participants and community youth basically are alike and equal. All people have and practice power, and most communities maintain fundamental hierarchical orders. Too, we bring our value-laden prejudices into the situation, interpreting culture and skin color, class, gender, sexual orientation, age, physical ability and physical attractiveness. Difference read as status plays out in any set of relationships—whether we acknowledge that fact or not. CCD practitioners have an ethical responsibility to be competent at addressing difference, status, power and cultural capital.

A few activities I use to tackle this ethical responsibility include:

1. Status mapping
   
   

   Social Indentity	Membership	Status
   Primary Cultural affiliation
   Gender
   Appearance
   Class
   Physical Ability/Disability
   Sexual Orientation
   Religion
   Age

   
   
2. Field work observing the performance of power and status
   
   Observe diverse sites, for example, the ASU gym and pool, a preschool playground, or a high-school basketball game. In each location, look for how social identities are performed and maintained. Look for status as related to those membership categories.
   
   
3. Writing your own obituary
   
   Write your own obituary, putting into it all of your life‘s accomplishments, and include why you are proud of these accomplishments
   
   
4. Matchstick autobiography
   
   In the space of time provided by one lit match (before you burn your fingers) give your autobiography to the class. What is most important that we know about you?
   
   
5. Value mapping activities
   
   
   1. Design a crest and motto for yourself.
   2. Create digital “I am” poems.
   3. As I read each of the below statements, vote with your body, ranking your values on a continuum of “agree” on one side of the room and “disagree” on the other.
      • Spending time with my family is important.
      • It is more important to save money than it is to buy things I want, but don’t necessarily need.
      • Being physically fit is an important part of my life.
      • Creative time is important to me.
      • It is more important to be honest than to spare someone’s feelings.

Becoming competent culturally is a process of self-reflexive pondering, questioning and awareness of how power dynamics operate. I believe that CCD youth-focused practitioners have an ethical responsibility to acknowledge power, to understand how their own status operates in any given situation, and to be able to honestly address difference with children and youth.

Justice/Fairness

An ethical approach to community-based arts also includes a commitment to justice and fairness. While these are closely related terms that often are used interchangeably, I understand justice to be a standard of rightness, and fairness the ability to judge and act without relying on personal feeling or self-interest. Justice means that all individuals have the same intrinsic dignity and value regardless of skin color, country of origin, cultural affiliation, sexual orientation, socioeconomic status, gender identity, age, religious affiliation, et cetera. I depend upon the U.N. Universal Declaration of Human Rights in general and the U.N. Convention of the Rights of the Child in particular as the standard to which I hold myself and others accountable. This U.N. Convention (adopted by the general assembly in 1989-1990) posits that while children deserve particular care and safeguards, they are neither the cultural capital of the state nor the property of their parents but rather are individuals with an inherent right to voice their own views in all arenas including civic environments. In this widely accepted international law (ratified by all U.N. member countries with the sole exceptions of Somalia and the United States) youth are given the same fundamental human rights and basic civil liberties of adults with rare exception. This document fundamentally posits youth primarily as individuals deserving of nondiscriminatory policies and participation in civil, social and cultural life.

When making decisions, we must strive for fairness even when that choice is difficult for us. Many in the community-arts field lean to the left politically; in point of fact, I would map myself as a strong progressive. Ethically, however, I still need to treat issues and individuals fairly—without bias. This can become extremely difficult when exploring contentious topics. To explore, for example, immigration with a group of youth, I need to be open to finding a way to effectively facilitate the diversity of the young people’s beliefs even when I disagree vehemently. As someone once said, it is not free speech unless we allow others to disagree with us. While I see no problem sharing my own beliefs, I am ethically responsible for not allowing my social power as the facilitating adult to overwhelming the youth’s beliefs and responses—even when, maybe especially when—I disagree. CCD “good work practices” provide young people the time, the space and the metaphoric languages to explore themselves and others. But that highlights the inherently political nature of youth-based CCD “good work” and creates a high-stakes ethical environment. I personally depend upon two concepts drawn from social and political educational theory to craft what I believe is a useful and ethical arts practice devoted to justice and fairness.

Harry C. Boyte’s work with the Center for Democracy and Citizenship along with his 2004 book, “Everyday Politics: Reconnecting Citizens and Public Life,” posits a concept of civic engagement as public work, effectively erasing the public/private split and recuperating young people into the civic sphere. Boyte understands culture as a verb—an act of coming together to create the public sphere through everyday experience. “Public work” writes Boyte,

is central to the idea of productive, everyday politics. Such politics means change in individuals’ identities and practices as well as social change. It leads to people seeing themselves as the co-creators of democracy, not simply as customers or clients, voters, protestors, or volunteers. To highlight the creative, educative, and productive dimensions of politics, public work can be best defined as sustained effort by a mix of people who solve public problems or create goods, material or cultural, of general benefit (5).

Boyte’s framing of culture as a verb transforms community into civic agency and aligns well with positive youth-development structures that value young people as active contributors to the health and success of their communities. Like feminist structures, Boyte erases the distinctions between the personal and the political, and frames justice as an everyday practice for which we are all responsible.

Youth-focused community-based performance too blurs the boundaries between public and private, work and home in unique and powerful ways. In U.S. culture as a whole, children and youth have limited access to public spaces and to democratic dialogues. Again, children do not vote, youth do not have access to much social capital, they are kept on the margins of public and policy culture and so have inadequate means to acquire the many social skills needed to negotiate the public sphere. But youth-focused CCD provide opportunities for self-definition outside of the marketplace as well as space for young people to embody and perform their beliefs about themselves and others. Understanding culture as a verb allows for positive and productive civic engagement highlighting children and youth as community assets not niche markets.

Amy Gutmann calls for a concept of education based on deliberative democratic principles rather than what I would argue is our current K-12 educational system devoted to creating productive workers for an industrial society. “Deliberation” she states,

is not a single skill or virtue. It calls upon skills of literacy, numeracy, and critical thinking, as well as contextual knowledge, understanding, and appreciation of other people’s perspectives. The virtues that deliberation encompass include veracity, nonviolence, practical judgment, civic integrity and magnanimity (xiii).

Deliberative democracy depends upon fostering mutual respect among persons as well as the ability to make judgments based on context and perspective, not individual interest—both key to justice and fairness. I use this concept to structure residencies; it reminds me to focus the process on principles of truthfulness, nonviolent communication skills, positive critiques, group responsibility for the emotional climate of the ensemble, and artistic and ensemble generosity. Deliberative democracy does not mean structuring the process along Robert’s Rules of Order; rather the concept provides a structure for creating ensemble practices that promote positive behavior and lateral responsibilities. I am no longer the person in charge of the room; rather we collectively and reciprocally are responsible for one another and for the artistic product. A practice that I view as both fair and just.

A deliberative environment increases the importance of personal and social relationships. Gutmann writes, “Public institutions should manifest and cultivate mutual respect among individuals as free and equal citizens. This aim is basic to almost every democratic ideal. It is explicitly defended by conceptions of both deliberative democracy and political liberalism” (303). A CCD practice based on principles of deliberative democracy and public work nurtures a communal space of fairness in which all voices have value (even the voices in disagreement with the majority). As a facilitator, I try to promote the principles inherent in the concepts of deliberative democracy and public work to create a space for complex and thoughtful disagreement and communal exploration of politically engaged topics on the deeply personal level.

Appropriate Relationships -- Respect

In addition to the above concepts, I have adopted the RESPECT model generated by Boston University Residency Training Program in Internal Medicine in my CCD apprentice program as a useful starting point to further discussions around mutual, collaborative and reciprocal respect strategies fostering deliberative dialogue. This model states:

Respect - A demonstrable attitude involving both verbal and nonverbal communication
Explanatory Model - What is the participant's point of view about storytelling, creativity, art, and the body? How does that view relate to the facilitating artist's understandings? All points of view must be elicited and reconciled.
Sociocultural Context - How class, race, ethnicity, gender, education, sexual orientation, immigrant status and family and gender roles, for example, affect interaction, understandings of community, communication, and ethics
Power - Acknowledging the power differential between participants and the artist. Power is not static but can transform and change depending upon the situation.
Empathy - Putting into words, images or movement the significance of the participant's concerns so that he or she feels understood by the facilitators and other participants
Concerns and fears - Eliciting and acknowledging the participant's emotions and concerns about the process, the outcome, and the risks involved
Trust - A measurable ingredient necessary to a positive outcome for any community-based arts project (137)

This model provides practical strategies for thinking about the processes and relationships involved in ethical and respectful CCD practices with children and youth. Justice, fairness and respect are not separate concepts, although for the purposes of this essay I have teased out some of the differences involved. But I personally view this as an integral value system fostering an environment in which good work can occur. The final value I want to tease out involves shared authorship, which flows logically from a deliberative structure focused on reciprocal respect.

Shared Authorship

In fact, I would argue that only together do these concepts provide a practical structure for how to ethically and authentically engage in community cultural development with youth through the creation of a process culture that empowers and engages individuals as civic equals in the shaping of society. In particular this has helped me understand residency processes as what Boyte calls a “free-space” or what performance artist Guillermo Gomez-Peña calls the “Fourth World.” Boyte states, “Free spaces are places where people learn political and civic skills. They are also culture-creating spaces where people generate new ways of looking at the world” (61). Gomez-Peña writes that in the Fourth World,

there is very little place for static identities, fixed nationalities, ‘pure’ languages, or sacred cultural traditions. The members of the Fourth World live between and across various cultures, communities, and countries. And our identities are constantly being reshaped by this kaleidoscopic experience (7). 

A commitment to principals of public work and deliberative democracy provides me a useful base that further fosters a conscious moral trajectory for “good work.” For while the Fourth World is a conceptual space of play that transgresses traditional sacred lines, it is not a site of destruction but rather re-construction, reflection and the civic act of creating living culture, communally. This free space then becomes a shared space in which we are all responsible for the act and the product of creation. I cannot accomplish my creative goals without all of my partners, without communal responsibility and without deliberative shared authority. In other words, “good work” must be created together, blurring the traditional art world distinctions of ownership and copyright. We are all responsible to creating a communal public world.

These concepts help me responsibly structure the entire process of my CCD residency and teaching practices with children and youth and have further led me to deduce that CCD “good work” is 1) purposive: practical in that it addresses a question or makes a statement; 2) active: modeling a strong conceptualization of agency that impacts both private and public portrayals of self—indeed highlighting the artificiality of the public/private split; and 3) provisional: this work is messy and sometimes difficult with multiple competing definitions of experience, justice and understandings for which we all bear equal responsibility.

As CCD becomes further professionalized, perhaps someday we will—as someone at the 2009 Imagining America Conference in New Orleans suggested—have a community cultural development bar exam licensing or authorizing practitioners as experts. Or perhaps someday we will have a board of enquiry to help navigate ethical concerns or a professional code of ethics to promote our “good work.” As my own personal experience shows, even when we care greatly and try hard, we will make mistakes. Ethics, of course is not as simple as “good” and “evil.” Reciprocal responsibility is also a complex process fraught with tension. Nevertheless, if we believe in the fundamental value of community cultural development practices with children and youth, and we recognize the diverse power structures operating in our everyday lives, then we have to personally commit to ethical practices. Here I have suggested what I believe are essential components to an ethical frame of “good work” (although I seem to have trouble writing that without using quotations). I look forward to listening to and reading what others see as essential to an ethical practice. Indeed to be ethical, we should engage in conversation, not a monologue.

This essay is part of the Community Arts Convening & Research Project, 2009-10, 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: Stephani Woodson, Arizona State University; Amalia Mesa-Bains, California State University Monterey Bay; Paul Teruel, Columbia College Chicago; Marina Gutierrez, Cooper Union; Jan Cohen-Cruz, Imagining America; Ken Krafchek, Maryland Institute College of Art; Lori Hager, University of Oregon; and Sonia BasSheva Mañjon, Wesleyan 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/

Works Cited

Boyte, Harry C. Everyday Politics: Reconnecting Citizens and Public Life. Philadelphia: University of Pennsylvania Press, 2004, 5.

Cohen-Cruz, Jan. Local Acts: Community-Based Performance in the United States. New Brunswick, N.J.: Rutgers UP, 2005.

Gardner, Howard. “The Ethical Responsibilities of Professionals.” The Good Work Project Report Series, Number 2. Harvard University, July 1998, revised February 2001.

Gardner, Howard, Mihaly Csikszentmihalyi and William Damon. “The Good Work Project a Description.” The Good Work Project Report Series, Number 1. Harvard University, 2001.

Goldbard, Arlene. New Creative Community: The Art of Cultural Development. Oakland, Calif.: New Village Press, 2006.

Gomez-Peña, Guillermo. The New World Border: Prophesies, Poems & Loquera for the End of the Century. San Francisco: City Lights Books, 1996.

Gutmann, Amy. Democratic Education. Princeton, N. J.: Princeton University Press, 1987, revised 1999.

Leonard, Robert H. “Grassroots, Community-based Theatre: A View of the Field and its Context.” December 2003. Community Arts Network Reading Room. 11 December 2003 <http://www.communityarts.net/readingroom/ archivefiles/2003/12/grassroots_comm.php>.

United Nations Convention on the Rights of the Child. 1989. UNICEF. 6 January 2005< <http://www.unicef.org/crc/>.

“Transforming the Face of Health Professions Through Cultural & Linguistic Competence Education: The Role of the HRSA Centers of Excellence.” Cultural Competence Resources for Health Care Providers. Washington, D.C.: Government Printing Office, 2005.

Original CAN/API publication: October 2009