Introduction
“This was the night that drag queens, transgendered folks, lesbians, and gay said No!
No more to gay oppression, police brutality, societal contempt.
The homophobia that had oppressed so many for so many years would no longer be tolerated.
Did they say “No” to racism because they were Black and Puerto Rican?
Or “No” because of their gender or sexual orientation?
Was it “No” because they were poor and working class?
It was all of those things.” - Merle Woo, August 2008, To my dear friend Anh[1]
You see, sometimes it all starts with a riot. But truthfully, a lot of the time, it starts with a spark or something that seems miniscule. You also might ask what is the ‘it’ that I am referring to? It could represent a variety of concepts, but in this case, it stands for that moment of spark or epiphany or even the moment when something changed into something new. It could be a small but noticeable change, or it could be a huge shift in perspective or momentum. This could be a movement (like in the case of Stonewall), a feeling, or even the lens that you are looking through. In my case, it stands for the moment that I realized my place in making the world a more welcoming place in every way I could. However, whether with a riot or a spark (or even with a poem or a movie or a painting or a song), every event and every movement starts with the individual. It could start with a single human or a city full of humans, but it all starts with individuals and their existential ideas, fears, and expectations. And on a personal note, and especially with my path to activism, sometimes it doesn’t start with a riot. I am only one person, and as long as I can remember, I have always had what I considered a strong desire to be part of the continuous battle and crusade for social justice. I was aware that my desire for positive change and equality was highly influenced by my artistic tastes and manifested through my creation of music, art, and writing. It might not have had the usual germination, and it definitely has taken many paths and has gone through many forms. But yes, my journey most definitely did not start as a riot. It started quietly with a kid, in his room, with records and books and movies, and, as with any living philosophy, it has evolved tremendously and continues to evolve.
How did I get here? Understanding and accepting the societal privilege that comes from my demographic and the gender I was assigned at birth, I am just one person, and there were still many factors that led to the current me. So…
Was it because of the targeting and bullies, especially in elementary and middle school?
Was it my never wanting or caring to fit into that ‘straight white male’ box as neatly as many of my peers could?
Was it the kindness and support bestowed upon me by certain adults who were looking out for me?
Was it seeing some influential movies as a youth (maybe too young)?
Was it listening to all those revolutionary records in my dad’s collection?
Was it the comic books and graphic novels that I was reading?
Was it the political cartoonists that I was drawn to in high school?
Being completely honest, it was probably, in some form or another, all those things. I was not exactly the biggest kid at school and had also decided at a very young age that I didn’t care to put very much of my energy into fitting into what were rather restrictive gender norms, especially in my area. I was lucky enough to have a handful of supportive adults in elementary school and even more significantly, I had supportive and influential role models in high school. As far as movies go, there was that time around the age of nine or ten that I saw The Color Purple and Platoon in the same weekend. The cynicism of Country Joe and the Fish’s I-Feel-Like-I’m-Fixin’-To-Die-Rag[2] reinforced my feelings even more about the atrocities of our involvement in Vietnam. I was reading The Dark Knight Returns[3] and Watchmen[4] along with the lesser-known Transmetropolitan[5] and The Invisibles,[6] as well as many other graphic novels and comics that were pushing that medium in ways that they hadn’t been pushed before. I also was ingesting every political cartoon that I could through the weekly and monthly news magazine publications and the local newspapers. In particular, I was drawn to the work of Rob Rogers.[7] Later on I found out that Rob was from Pittsburgh, and a short time after that, I was able to hear Rob speak and meet and talk to him in person. In this case, it took something meaningful to me and gave it more depth and context. Meeting and hearing him speak and realizing that he, like me, was just one person making a difference, only added to my inspiration to enact change.
Of all of these moments and influences, saying that it was any of those singularly would be nothing short of a lie. How did I, being born and raised in an openly conservative rural environment, with little to no diversity, end up here? I guess that we can see a clear path even though it was an unlikely path. Either way, spiritually and philosophically, I am glad to be where I am, and I wouldn’t feel comfortable anywhere else. I feel that these influences led me into teaching, and as an educator, I know that many of my students feel drawn to being on the ‘right side’ of history as well. I want to enable and encourage them as certain educators and influential adults did for me and so many of my friends. I also am well aware and accepting that most of their experiences differ from the my experiences as a child and young adult.
To paraphrase the quote that is often attributed to Maya Angelou, I did what I could with what I knew and once I knew better, I did better. And just like the example above where Woo asked her friend those questions, there were many reasons for my transformation into the adult advocate and educator that I am and continue to become.
“I’m a self-righteous prick, with a great big mouth
But I’m sick to death of mediocracy and lies.
And I’m preaching to the choir,
And I’m yelling down a hole,
I used to sing between the lines but then I got wise”
-Hamell on Trial, “Halfway”[8]
As an artistic activist, navigating my journey as an advocate for social change, I have slipped back and forth between the messages I want to deliver to the world and in what manner I feel best that they are delivered. As stated in the Hamell quote above, I am in constant reflection of whether the artist message should be delivered bluntly and or covertly snuck into the art. Artistic choice, preference, what the song or piece calls for, along with what seems most impactful have all been valid and constructive paths to take when creating a piece with a message. As a visual artist, I appreciate the bluntness of Barbara Krueger[9] or Kara Walker’s[10] art. Barbara Krueger’s blunt and in-your-face approach and iconic red, black, and white color scheme drives home points that would not be easily disguised with subtly. Kara Walker’s silhouette pieces are graphic and intentional in their approach as well. Kara Walker delving deep into the African American experience especially from the point of view of an African American Woman. Although both Walker and Krueger are great examples, depending on the specific work, it might not always be an age-appropriate fit for the grades that I am introducing it to. However, the sometimes more subtle advocacy work of Romare Bearden and Jacob Lawrence have facilitated great classroom discussions while remaining mostly age and grade appropriate. I also get great joy from the subtlety of a good hidden message (what we now refer to as ‘Easter Eggs’) showing up in every genre of art.
Personally, and artistically, I have been fascinated by (and heavily influenced by) the graffiti artists of the 1980’s. I have probably been most heavily influenced by Keith Haring and Jean-Michell Basquiat, who were witty and creative with their seemingly simplistic, easily recognizable, and repeatable images. I appreciate the subversiveness of their messages mixed with their healthy disregard for authority. The subversive act of their graffiti tactics itself being a large part of their acts of revolution. And although never the basis for a full-scale project, we have had many deep and philosophical conversations around the works of Haring and Basquiat as well as the complications and problematic nature of graffiti art and graffiti artists.[11]
It does truly take a village to form a movement, and visual artists are only one medium that has influenced me as an artist and activist. As a songwriter and lyricist, I was heavily influenced by the in-your-face heavy metal and punk rock messaging of well-known bands like Rage Against the Machine and The Dead Kennedys, who spoke directly to the angry teenager in me. From this and the crossover and collaboration of groups from these genres also lead me to activist minded hip-hop groups such as Public Enemy and Tribe Called Quest. More recently, these groups led me to newer groups such as Run the Jewels and the folk-punk/anti-folk artists of the past couple of decades (including artists such as Hamell on Trial and Ani Difranco), who in turn led me back to listening to the early activist folk music of Woody Guthrie and Pete Seeger. Much like my getting to meet cartoonist Rob Rogers, my getting to meet and share stages with Ed Hamell (Hamell on Trial) further solidified the idea that one person can make a difference while still being part of a greater movement. My listening and the messages that I was hearing were becoming more and more diverse and also more and more activist oriented. Because of the outreach and messages of many of these artists and musicians that I was listening to, absorbing, and inspired by, I was finding myself wanting to be a person that enabled and encouraged and participated in that movement for social justice. So many of the artists, musicians, and writers that I was being drawn to tended to be approachable and down to earth and further proved to me how accessible a path to activism could be.
In my art room, we often find ourselves discussing the importance of the process over the product. Sometimes it wasn’t even the art or the music as much as what the artists went through in the process of making the art or the music. The first example that comes to mind is Paul Simon’s collaboration with Ladysmith Black Mambazo. Even though some aspects have come under criticism, the initial goal of this was to lift marginalized groups of indigenous South African artists impacted by apartheid.[12] Another musical example would be the work that David Byrne and the Talking Heads were doing by including a wider and wider world influence with their music and live performances which included the music influences as well as dance performances. Stop Making Sense, both in musical performance and visual performance, were connecting American and European audiences to aspects that had not been put onto as large of a stage. David Byrne continued and deepened the experiment even after leaving the Talking Heads.[13] We see cross-discipline engagement with Romare Bearden and Faith Ringgold uplifting and celebrating the musicians of their eras through their artwork. Bearden even being an accomplished musician and athlete as well as a visual artist. We look at pieces like Romare Bearden’s ‘The Piano Lesson (Homage to Mary Lou)’[14], which was inspired by Matisse[15] and not only celebrated a young musician’s journey to learn the instrument, but it also was the inspiration for Pittsburgh’s native August Wilson’s 1987 play of the same name.[16]
In almost every genre of visual art, music, and writing that influenced my youth and young adulthood, I could find artists of all types using their craft as a vehicle for change and for positivity. Although there are a few examples of larger contributions, most of the impact was in the form of small acts of activism which were intentional and constant. Activism was always at least ‘in-the-mix’ when these artists were creating their works. And just like those before me, art (and all its forms) has always been more than just pretty songs or picturesque paintings to me.
“Coming of age during the plague of Reagan and Bush
watching capitalism gun down democracy.
It had this funny effect on me,
I guess”
-Ani Difranco, “Your Next Bold Move”[17]
Unlike growing up through the 1980’s and 1990’s, the youth of today have instant access to an endless influx of information. The adults around them have that instant access and influx as well. And every day we see and read about the seemingly infinite injustices in this world. It feels futile and hopeless at times, and making any difference feels like an insurmountable task. I am just one human. My students are just individual humans. We are all just individual artists and musicians and writers and creators. How can we, as singular people, push back against the sometimes-suffocating oppression that we see? How can I, as an art teacher, make a difference? How can my fourth and fifth graders make a difference? How can our kindergarten students make a difference? How can we make a difference when we work together? How can we make a difference working alone but all working towards a collective goal?
For my students, I cannot answer many of these questions, which I have wrestled with and pondered along my own journey, and continue to do so. Instead, I can only model what it looks like to wrestle with them, ponder them, and look for ways to move forward. I look to my own influences, none of whom individually solved the woes of the world. Instead, they showed me the dignity of the fight itself. My most powerful radical influences did not teach me the answers to these impossible questions, but the honor of fighting the good fight, even in the face of challenging odds. There are so many ways that artists and performers can make sustained efforts to bring more equality, hope, and joy to the world.
Advocacy groups, civil rights groups, and even corporate groups have been using ideas in this vein for many years. As with any artistic or creative endeavor, it seems that groups like the Young Lords[18] and the Black Panthers were using intentional and sustained efforts with their organizations to achieve huge and positive impacts. The impacts of both of these groups are still felt today and live on through the neighborhood outreach and food distribution programs pioneered by them. These groups were using many of the techniques (although on a much larger scale) as an artist or project manager might use. These techniques tactics do not sit too far away from the skills and strategies that I teach and model for my students. Through sustained effort and practice, artists, musicians, along with athletes and other disciplines, can make noticeable and significant gains in their respective fields.
We all can make a plan. We can all make an impact. We all can make positive steps toward our goals. We can do so much when we work together and lead by example, even if we are working separately toward the same goal. No one really likes to be ‘bossed’ around, but we can all be leaders. We can all do something. The world doesn’t need more rooms filled with bosses and managers. But the world can use more community building, more solidarity to make change, more grassroots organizing, and above all, more positivity and joy.
“True revolutionaries never bomb buildings
True revolutionaries never bomb buildings
It attracts too much attention
They never bomb buildings”
-Dan Bern, “True Revolutionaries”[19]
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