Yes, and . . . The Urgency of Matrilineage Right Now

Laura K. Reeder
On sabbatical
New England, USA

Brooke Anne Hofsess
On sabbatical
Southern Appalachia, USA

Dear Brooke,
Thank you so much for sharing your art, teaching, activism, and more with me. It has been especially valuable to exchange worries and wonders about our parallel privileges as arts education faculty who are also beginning sabbaticals. As an artist, I am thrilled to discover unfettered studio time. As a teacher, I miss the immediacy of critical conversations with my students that have fueled my identity as a productive social contributor. As a human, and woman over 50, I find it hard to accept this luxurious gift that a lifetime of work has brought me. Yes . . . we are beginning a conversation between women at a time when female life choices are in a patriarchal political spotlight, again. And . . . by spending the beginning of this time with you, intentionally comparing practices, histories, and passions, I have found new strength in an emerging matrilineage¹ that links our work to a difficult world. And . . . lucky us, we have forged a new lineage that may influence future artists, teachers, and activists to pay better attention to the substance of their everyday lives.

We have been referring to our conversation as “Yes, and . . .” (Fey, 2011) in tribute to a theory of improvisational theater that encourages people to listen to and expand on the ideas of others. It is a way to codify our conversation for an audience of readers and for ourselves. Of course! How lovely and well-behaved we are to model good listening and embracing differences! What would happen if you just shared rich discoveries in paper, pulp, and water that you made at your recent studio retreat, and I just shared the relationships that emerged when my cultivator cut sharp lines into sand on a beach as I raced against the tide to complete a 1-mile labyrinth drawing? Who would be excluded? Who would care to know more?

Figure 1.

Brooke Hofsess, 2018, Paper, Pulp, and Water [Handmade paper].

Figure 2.

Laura K. Reeder, 2018, Labyrinth Drawing at Low Tide [Low-tide sand activated by human bodies].

Brooke, how can we use this time of privilege and production to stay connected to the urgencies of the world that surrounds us and go deep into the creative work that better equips us to navigate those urgencies? How can it help my undocumented students to feel safe? How will it empower my art ed students to choose a teaching position in the poorest school? How might it encourage other artists to address inequities through their creativity? Hannah Arendt (1958, p. 7) proposed that labor is the ability to sustain human life and biological needs of consumption and reproduction, work is the ability to develop a world for human use in ideas and materials, and action is the ability to reveal the identity of the agent, to affirm the reality of the world, and to actualize our capacity for freedom. Arendt reinforces my own determination to connect my everyday-ness to my activism. You and I have exchanged the words and wisdom of brilliant girls and women who inspire us, through the simple act of naming them and noting their influences. By standing beside them, my determination grows exponentially.

As a final note of gratitude to you and a resource for folks who may follow our exchange, I will give back the women that we have shared through this conversation. Yes . . . I know that it is not fine academic modeling to end a letter with a list or to ignore APA conventions by ordering them as they entered into our exchange. And . . . I believe that by liberating ourselves from some hierarchical conventions, we may find better tools for our labor, work, and action. Thank you for recognizing the wisdom we share from . . .

Judith Burton:

who taught us both interactive and human-centered teaching

Maxine Greene:

her “wide-awakeness” endures in our practices

bell hooks:

reminds us to teach for love...