I am an Arab-American public mosaic artist who lives in Yonkers, NY. My M.F.A. was obtained from Instituto d’Arte per il Mosaico di Ravenna in Ravenna, Italy. It was during my time in Italy that I learned that being a teacher, at its core, means you will always be a student. You are in a continuing process of learning from all those around you. To be a good teacher, to inspire, to motivate, to help unpeel a human being’s potential for creativity that may be hidden under layers and layers of fear, trauma, insecurity and pain, means that you listen more than you speak. You assume that every person you come in contact with has something to teach you about themselves, our world and even yourself. That’s why I became a Teaching Artist. I need to learn just as much as I need to teach.

I work as a Teaching Artist with the Westchester Arts Council, Citylore and the Hudson River Museum, where most of my residencies are in public schools, but in the summer I primarily work with underserved communities and populations. This was a choice on my part. I am dedicated very strongly towards community development and intergenerational projects. I work with Groundworks USA which is based on the model that quality of life in poverty and blight-stricken areas depends on local action and empowerment to take back neighborhoods and eliminate environmental poverty to become vibrant, safe communities. My work as a public artist with Groundworks allows me to go into communities and really form relationships. We decide together what kind of public art is needed and often all ages are working together on the art piece. My overall theme is connections. I use public art to help people see how we are connected to each other and the environment and mosaic is a wonderful medium to do that.

www.artandsoul-studio.com
HaifaBintKadi@teachingartists.com

Name:

Haifa

Subject:

Iris and Isr'a: A Lesson in Nobility

Date:

23 Sep 2005

Time:

04:11:12 PM -0400

Blog

I mentioned in a previous blog that I would write more about my training this summer and how it has influenced my residencies. One of the aspects of the training that struck me greatly was our power as artist’s to heal. Now I know that we are all aware of that component as teaching artists. Many of us became artists because we needed to heal or we needed to share our ability to be healers, but the training we received this summer dealt specifically with the structured steps that a teaching artist can use to bring about healing, conflict resolution and positive change among communities and also individuals who faced tragedy, violence or trauma. I’ve been thinking about this a lot lately. I really wanted to examine on a personal level, how I consciously thought about healing or being a catalyst for change in terms of the way I structure my residencies and how I could possibly measure in some way if I had been effective. As teaching artists, we always hope for the big shifts in thinking or behavior, but it is often the little prizes that we receive. I recently did a residency at a nursing home where most of the participants were quite elderly and suffering from many of the normal ailments that time marches through our fragile human systems; arthritis, joint pain, decreased mobility and gross motor skills, dementia, but one participant was struck with a challenge that was a new one for me. She suffered from dementia accompanied with a complete inability to vocalize other than small grunts and panic attacks. Iris, as I have named her here, was quite nervous and had difficulty staying focused. She also, under no circumstances, could be touched nor could she initiate skin to skin contact. She was challenging on so many levels for me as a teacher only because I wasn’t sure if indeed the project I had been hired to teach wasn’t going to frustrate her rather than provide a creative outlet. She had difficulty choosing and deciding on mosaic materials, sitting still was an issue, and she really needed a lot of one on one, which I was not at liberty to provide at this residency. In fact, I had not even been told that Iris would be attending. Many of you are probably thinking by now, why in the world did the nursing home administrators think this would be a good class for her? When I first met her I felt similarly, but my feelings soon changed. You see, I provide a unique offering to nursing homes that I call my “Intergenerational Mosaics.” I only do this during the summer when I have young children available that have been trained in mosaics to assist me. On this particular occasion, I only had my daughter who is nine years old, but she was plenty. I started doing intergenerational art residencies many years ago when I could not afford babysitters for my homeschooled children. Now I knew it was healthy for young children and the elderly to interact, but I didn’t have all the language to support my “theory”. Mostly, I didn’t want to be away from my young daughters. That’s one of the reasons why I stayed committed to being an artist. I researched through many materials until I put together a marketable “Intergenerational” residency brochure, but I also relied on my cultural roots. In the Middle East, elderly live among their immediate family members in close-knit communities. Elderly parents often move in with one of their children and are cared for by family members until the end of their lives. In fact, nursing homes hardly exist throughout the Middle East. I still don’t want to make too noble my reasons for schlepping my children along, I often had no choice and I needed to convince others that having kids involved was not a bad deal. So back to Iris. My daughter Isr’a, immediately detected that Iris was not able to keep up with the others or follow even the most basic instructions. She ended up partnering with her and mentoring her. She would hold up a tile and ask Iris if she liked this one or that one and then she would place the tile on the frame and ask Iris, “Is it ok here? What about here?” Iris didn’t feel threatened by Isr’a, and in turn, Isr’a enjoyed going at such a slow pace. Iris and Isr’a were a perfect match, but soon, Iris’ disability got the better of her and she suddenly needed to leave the room. The other participants knowingly offered, “Oh don’t worry, she usually doesn’t even stay that long and she probably won’t be back!” I returned the next week and found Iris at the door anticipating our arrival. She sought out Isr’a, and they worked together for more than 2 hours until Iris completed her mosaic frame. Yes, this is a success story, but what is revealing is how art can heal in the most unexpected ways. The project wasn’t frustrating for Iris because of the interaction with my daughter. She had found someone who accepted her pace and way of doing things and they formed a powerful and productive partnership. Iris did complete her mosaic frame. She was so proud and insisted we take a photo of it. Isr’a also learned that people come in all kinds of packages and with a little patience and guidance you really can move mountains. Isr’a is very talkative and is often very hands-on. This is not always an advantage, but with Iris it was. Isr’a felt empowered by her ability to work effectively with Iris. Isr’a had brought out in Iris her “noble quality” to create and express and Iris brought out in Isr’a her “noble quality” to be patient and caring. Before my summer training, I never thought about every residency as an opportunity to heal and develop noble qualities, but even if I had, life often throws the unexpected your way. I wasn’t expecting the challenge of Iris. Art is not always an intentional tool to heal, but sometimes just the vehicle that brings two people together. It is that human interaction that happens when we teach art that allows us to discover the potential of just a smile, an encouraging hand on the shoulder, the enthusiastic, “I love how you used the blue paint!” that allows us to be healers and transformers. We don’t always have the power or capacity to change the world, but it is enough, on some days, just to change a few moments, in one life. I’ve since learned through studies that intergeneration art has many researched and documented benefits. The elderly who may suffer depression from a feeling of being useless and powerless, benefit from increased self-esteem when put in the role of teacher and mentor to young children who value their wisdom through personal stories and shared skills like knitting or writing. Children learn that the elderly have valuable information and skills they can benefit from. They often learn to listen better as they work with elder citizens who need more time and spacing when verbalizing or using their motor skills. Children can relate to that. Children also benefit from increased self esteem when given the opportunity to teach or mentor a new skill to an elder person. I could list hundreds of benefits far beyond living in a society where everyone is valued regardless of their age or physical challenges and everyone regardless of their age is allowed to participate. A society in which we honor and celebrate an elder’s contributions and the wisdom they have to share and we honor and celebrate a young life just at the beginning of being a powerful contributing member of society if we nurture them correctly. I am not always able to list and measure the results of healing on the paperwork that follows most of my intergenerational residencies, but I’m learning. For example, Iris was able to increase her ability to focus and participate in art by 150% after the residency, but the part that doesn’t go on paper is what happened when we had completed the residency. Iris placed a shell in Isr’a’s little hand. I didn’t really understand the moment, but Isr’a had understood Iris’s gesture and explained to me that is was so Isr’a would remember her. I definitely will not forget what both Iris and my daughter Isr’a taught ME that day!

Name:

Haifa

Subject:

The Storm

Date:

01 Sep 2005

Time:

05:02:00 PM -0400

Blog

My first blog on the first day of the month, and in the true spirit of an artist, give me a podium and I’m ready to go! Right now I am still exhaling. I am trying to take in and process what it feels like to wake up and find that nature has delivered at your door, a shattered life, a life that has been devastated only because you were in the path of a storm, a natural occurrence, a reminder that we are not always in control. So many lives in the south have been tossed upside down by wind, rain, and then heat and humidity, thirst, hunger, fear and the roar of silence. Silence because water, water everywhere and not a drop to drink, not enough food, not enough boats, not enough help, not enough protection, not enough shelter, not enough troops, not enough buses, not enough, not enough. Here in America, not enough. As I write this blog, 4 days after the hurricane, the rally call seems to be going out. Suddenly things have sprung into action. Food, water, troops, buses and resources seem to have finally broken the dam and instead of a trickle, a floodgate has opened and help is on the way. Something nags at me though, something that I know will be answered with polished justifications and shiny rationalizations. 4 days. It took 4 days. We can all make a care package and feel we have helped somehow, but we are still left with the fact that here in America, it took 4 days. So I am exhaling, but with a shallow breath. We are teaching artists and educators, so I know all of us are also thinking about how this will impact our work this year. How will we talk about this with the kids? How will we answer their questions? How will we use art so they realize that nature is not the enemy? How will we make them feel safe from all the other storms that whip and toss their small lives into chaos and crisis. How will we use the creative process to raise up a generation of children that will feel connected enough to each other, to all humans, so that it never ever takes 4 days to send help to those in a crisis? I recently acquired some tools to do just that. It was a wonderful training that I attended this summer. I’ll be speaking more about that in my next post. Breathe.

Name:

Haifa

Subject:

What I Did Over Summer Vacation

Date:

01 Sep 2005

Time:

05:20:32 PM -0400

Blog

I'm still exhaling, but from a good thing. An intense, moving, amazing, life-changing and uplifting experience that I had this summer participating in the NYSAAE Professional Development Project. These were a series of three workshops that took place over the summer designed to train and improve the participating teaching artists’ ability to use the creative process to “bring out the creative best in an individual and a group…using those strengths as a way to build a strong sense of group unity around those strengths.” I am borrowing the words of John Woodall, one of the trainers/mentors from the Harvard Medical Center and Project Unity. Even though John goes by the title of “therapist”, he really is a kind of guru, a spiritual guide. He taught us how to bring out the “noble possibility” in those we teach and how to “cultivate dignity” among children and adults who had experienced great trauma or crisis (see I wasn’t kidding about the guru, spiritual guide stuff). Our other spiritual guide, diva of all that is good and true in the world, was Dale Davis from the New York State Literary Center. Dale guided us in ways that we could use the creative process to reach our students in meaningful and lasting ways and that's just the tip of the iceberg. You know, that connection that makes your students stay with you long after the residency is over. The kind that makes their faces, the little things they say, the looks, the smiles, become a permanent imprint on your life and makes you ready, really ready to face your next residency even when you know the time will be too short to make the kind of difference that you REALLY want to make. A quote from Dale’s Credo offers, “I believe in moments, and those moments connected together make our lives.” Isn’t that the perfect summation of how we approach our residencies? We live for a few short, but valuable moments that connect and offer possibilities to children and adults through the creative process. We create horizons of options and alternatives for the children whose lives we attempt to impact. A teaching artist offers a sunrise when someone can only see a sunset. A teaching artist is always willing to make due with the resources we have on hand. Not enough materials, not enough time, not enough budget, not enough you? I’m in and I’ll make it work! That’s our battle cry isn’t it? So yes, I am exhaling from the wonderful time I spent with these great trainers, but also with Carol Fineberg, the Presiding Project Director and a board member of the New York Alliance for the Arts. Carol was so inspiring. She just gets it! She gets it and she gets it and she gets it. Carol is a pioneer in Arts in Education and she is authentically experienced from the trenches. Over a seemingly innocent chat during a 1 minute break, Carol sits down next to you to have what you think will be a short exchange of the regulars…and then she delivers information that is so valuable to you as a TA, that you find yourself leaning on her every word and you are furiously writing every comment she makes. I am also slowly exhaling from the group of TAs that I definitely didn’t get to know well enough. I could have spent so much more time with these folks. As artists, we often meet and run in circles of other artists. It’s so strange because we really are not “pack” animals in the least, but only other artists can handle to spend too much time around us. You must surround yourself with other artists if only to remind yourself that you are not going Sylvia Plath, you’re an artist and it’s ok to not know how you will pay your rent next month and it’s ok to keep explaining to your relatives that being an art major was and still is worth it and it's ok to collect barrels of plastic yogurt cups, telephone wire and broken plates because it could be used in a residency that has a $0.00 art budget and it’s ok to have your daughters constantly preclude your introductions to their friends with the disclosure: “My mom wears a lot of purple because (sigh) she’s an artist”. So we run with other artists because we must. But, this was different. These were artists that had in so many ways, dedicated their lives to enriching the lives of others. Every artist in the training had a unique and extremely successful approach to working with at-risk youth, the elderly, kids already in trouble, kids trying to get out of trouble, and human beings that somehow have gotten left behind. Now I didn’t know how all of this was going to work out, I mean after all, when you get a group of artists together in a small space you KNOW there will be some blood and feathers at the end of it all. I’m a visual artist and visual artists just know that when the theater artists are coming things are going to get loud, but performing artists have the best jokes ever which makes up for it all! In this case it was a crew from City Lights Youth Theater in Manhattan. I am so not worthy! I loved meeting all of you! Every single TA from City Lights had an amazing ability to use their creative process to make the people they work with feel good about being in their skin. That isn’t easy. At 45 I consider gravity and carbs my mortal enemies and yet, when I am around my performing artist friends, I am Zena, I am Frodo, I am ready to lay you flat with my humor and sharp endless wit! So to performing artists at City Lights and everywhere, thank you. Thank you for being patient with me, for not rolling your eyes during my diatribe about Leonardo Divenci and the Golden Mean, and lecture about the life of rocks and for not falling asleep during my history lesson about the hunt for red sulphur to create red glass and how the color red has had an enormous impact on the development of Asian and Middle Eastern cultures and…well God Bless performing artists. Westchester artists, hello? Are we not moving and shaking up here? Raphael, Toni, Deborah, Julie, Susan, and Ayesha, I am so exhaling from getting to know all of you better. We do be doin’ what we do up here and there is no apology necessary if your address does not end in NY, NY. Art is alive in Westchester County and it’s only one train away. (It really must be said, I can leave Yonkers and be in Lower Manhattan faster than some of my Brooklyn and Eastside friends!) Everything I learned this summer has everything to do with our current natural disaster and all the other disasters that never make it to the news. Louisiana, Mississippi, Alabama, basically all of the South gets ignored unless there is a hurricane or tornado or unless a president was born there or is living there. Louisiana is poor. I have heard that a lot in the last few days. But why only in the last few days? And what does all of this have to do with me as an artist, as an educator? Everything.