6: Reciprical-Reflexivity
As stated at the end of the embodied sculpted analysis, I wanted to further pursue visual storytelling and memories with my second grade students. Though I will not be working with this group in the future, using art experiences to empower children to revision the past and value who they are directly relates to my draft problem statement and my future context.
To organize memories, I introduced a timeline. My second graders are familiar with number lines and units to measure length, but I told them our new unit was years. We discussed that zero was the day of their birth and tried to locate our current age on the timeline. If their birthday was soon, their age was very close to the next marker. If it had just happened, they were only a little bit past the mark.
The last number noted on our timeline was 9. I anticipated that this would be old enough for everyone except myself. These two anchor points, zero and their age, quickly became problems. Koreans count themselves as 1 on the day they are born. They also increase their age on January 1 of each year. Those two cultural traits meant that many of my students told me they were 9 and the line was not long enough for them. They also could not rectify the zero/one dilemma.
Locations on the line were less precise due to this confusion but the line did give the students a starting place for organizing their memories. I encouraged them to use pictures and symbols to represent the stories, giving my own examples of moving just before my 5th birthday and my brother being born when I was 7. Like most tasks, some students flew threw the assignment, some struggled to do enough markings, and others would have continued longer if time permitted. Some students were able to do the entire process without words. Others used a word or two next to some of their images. Still others wrote whole sentences to accompany each picture.
One boy documented his life in circled pictures above the line. The standardization creates an aesthetic rhythm that I find compelling. This student loves dogs and seemed to be tracking his life through his interactions with his pet dog. He later added some more memories below the line, including a fire in his apartment building and school life. This second set of memories is not bound by circles.




Students were asked to select 3 pieces of paper and draw one story from their timeline on each sheet. Students were free to pick from various pastel background papers and were encouraged to color carefully with colored pencils, a medium with which they are familiar.
For a few of the students, telling the story on paper was not sufficient; they wanted to vocalize their stories. I encouraged them to tell me their story through their picture. Still, two boys went back and forth, trying to tell crazier stories and get a laugh from their classmates.
In preparation for the second hour-long class period, I solicited the parents for photos. Though I asked parents to help their child select a picture that they like, whether a baby photo, something recent, a specific memory, or a fun image, I do not know how many of the students were involved in the choosing. One mom, who I know to be out of town when I e-mailed the request, replied “not sure if (she) will like this one but I love it.” Another mom sent two pictures—one that the student selected and another, more recent photo, in case the first photo wasn’t acceptable. Since some parents did not respond to the inquiry, I acquired yearbook headshots for the remaining students.
All photos were color-printed on copy paper and cut to be 18 cm x 28 cm, then sliced with a knife to create a paper loom.
The beginning of the second class proved to be an interesting scenario. For the first time in my six years of teaching, parents requested an “open classroom” for the specials time where they could come and observe. Parents of children in both second grade classes were invited to come to watch the class, even though only one of the classes would be in art at the time. Nine second grade parents observed music, then followed the 10 students to art class. They drank coffee and chatted in Korean at the back of my room but for the most part, they did not interact with the students. Then without warning, the parents got up and all exited about halfway through the hour-long period. (Later that day, I received more photos via e-mail for students in the other 2nd grade class—it seems watching the project reminded the parents to submit a photo.)
As class started, I gave the students a few minutes to free-write sentences of introduction. Words were traced in marker and then I cut the sentences and the memory pictures from the previous week into 2cm wide strips.
The students categorized the strips as a puzzle and only wanted to arrange them in the “proper” order. When they saw a paper loom, though, the understood the weaving purpose. I reminded the students of previously learned weaving patterns, such as over-under and over-over-under, but emphasized the hidden/revealed aspect of this weaving. With an array of paper strips—the fragmented stories of their life—and the photograph, students were given permission to weave a picture. They could select any strips they wanted to and they could cover or expose as much of the strip or the photograph as they desired, though the two situations were mutually exclusive. Some students thoughtfully mixed and matched their pieces while others wove at random.
As students worked, I challenged students who were bound by a traditional weaving pattern. One student even pulled out her entire weaving and found new freedom in being able to cover and uncover at will. She still chose to operate within a pattern but it was not the traditional checkerboard. For another student, we played with which words were visible. The strips were longer than the paper loom so she could pull the strip either direction to expose different words. With this margin of play, she chose to reveal specific family relationships and her passport country.
The photographic paper loom was a point of contention for some students. While one boy was loudly and joyously praising cute baby pictures of his classmates, others hid their photos. One boy told his table mates that his picture (a yearbook picture) was the worst. When two students agreed with his sentiment, he burst into tears. In his finished weaving, his face is completely covered. As he told me at the end of class:Look I covered my face. Because I do not like my face.
You don’t like your face or you don’t like this picture of your face?
Just this picture.
Why don’t you like it?
I not like all (of the picture).
I explained this situation to his classroom teacher. She remarked that his frequently says things of this nature, then gets sensitive if anyone else agrees with his negative self-talk.
My two energetic boys also lost control before the end of the period. One boy was talking about the death of a relative with laughter, joking, and acting out “blood spurting everywhere!” This was, of course, encouraged by the other boy.
A third boy (who at times joins the silly-party) was fully focused on his art project. He had told his mom to e-mail a particular picture of him as a toddler and in class, he worked carefully to see how the strips would interact with his photo. Though he first managed to reveal his whole face, he later decided it was funny to have only one eye visible. He narrated as he worked: I’m Minecrafting myself.
(later)
Hey look I puzzled a little bit of my picture.
What if you could take a picture of yourself
and then you could build it on Minecraft?
This student was captivated by his ability to sculpt his image and exercise control over a representation of himself. Like many of my students, he creates with Minecraft for entertainment. This virtual world is another space wherein students can manipulate their environment, but perhaps also their image. Though the Minecraft sandbox world is bound by a block appearance, the students could use the vocabulary to construct their bodies and ask many of the same questions as suggested in Keifer-Boyd’s critical avatar creation. For my elementary students, this is a language they already speak and skills they already possess. In addition, it is my understanding that Minecraft worlds are not public in the same way that Second Life explorations could expose K-12 students to interactions with those beyond the school community.
The creative and building aspects of Minecraft allow players to build constructions out of textured cubes in a 3D procedurally generated world. Other activities in the game include exploration, gathering resources, crafting, and combat. Gameplay in its commercial release has two principal modes: survival, which requires players to acquire resources and maintain their health and hunger; and creative, where players have an unlimited supply of resources, the ability to fly, and no health or hunger.
The second group of students seemed less successful. Many students chose to trace their sentences in complicated color patterns that ate up much of their limited work time. Only one third of the students finished. Of the students who finished, one boy was at the point of tears because of his struggles with a gluestick! I intervened, helping him glue the ends of his weaving so as to alleviate unnecessary stress, but I saw him wipe away tears as we worked together. This boy was also upset earlier in class. He was the first to begin tracing his words in marker but due to his intricate color pattern, another boy who only used black marker finished before him. “What!” he exclaimed, “you cannot do all black!” When I defended the student’s choice as acceptable, he was clearly frustrated and muttered “what the heck,” an odd statement for a non-native speaker, only 7 years in age.Two girls were focused on storytelling and did not finish their weavings. They were giggling back and forth during the work time and came up to me a few times to tell me about their stories. One of the girls became so enthralled by her memories of being younger that she clapped and squealed, “I want to be five years old!!!!”
Despite less satisfying results, some students were actively thinking about the aspects they were hiding or revealing in their choices. One student was heard saying, “I don’t need the white part so I will cover like this.”


The weaving metaphor, exposing and revealing their past to construct an image to present to the world, is beautiful to me but perhaps too mature for most young children. I am curious about child psychology and developmentally-appropriate levels of symbolic conversation. In addition, I wonder about humor. Both in these projects and in current 4th grade collages, some students are transfixed by juxtaposing crazy images and creating humorous compositions. The second graders shouted things like “look, I only have one eye!” This was not due to any deep meaning, feeling limited in vision or symbolically handicapped, but because having one eye is silly. It’s funny to see themselves in that light and such a statement and art project can generate laughter from a peer.
Laughter is a part of free, full lives. I do not know what role it might have in our artmaking at Blessed Homes and if it has a role in the action research for Spring 2015.
I am also concerned about the safety needed when working with issues of identity. Some students did not feel safe to show their pictures to their classmates. Being kind and respectful to each other has been a struggle for both classes throughout the year. Though the children at Blessed Homes exist together in a family, power and inclusion/exclusion is still a factor. I am wondering what introductory experiences might facilitate deeper relationships between children and open a space for authentic, vulnerable, individual exploration.
With additional time, it would be interesting to have students reflect on their weaving, asking them:
Who is this?
How is this individual similar to you?
How is this person different from you?
What did you chose to hide/reveal? Why?
In life, how do we hide and reveal?
References:
Keifer-Boyd, K. ( 2012). Critique, advocacy and dissemination: I've got the data and the findings, now what? In S. Klein (Ed.), Action research: Plain and simple (pp. 197-215). New York City, NY: Palgrave.
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