Sidste blogindlæg på Legefakultetet

Det er blevet tid til sidste blogindlæg på Legefakultetet.
Legefakultetet startede ud som en generel blog om børne- og ungekultur. Jeg sporede mig gradvist ind på, at det primært var ’leg’, jeg var optaget af og med tiden bevægede jeg mig fra børns leg, til unges leg over til voksne og leg, leg i det offentlige rum og leg på samfundsplan, i reklamer, musikvideoer etc. Bloggen blev en rejse ind i legens dna.

Nogle af de sidste indlæg, jeg har postet, handler derimod om min personlige situation, om en stressrelateret depression jeg fik konstateret i november 2011, som jeg i skrivende stund stadig ikke er helt ude af. 
De indlæg jeg nåede at skrive om leg, i tiden op til min depression satte ind, blev en gentagelse af tidligere indlæg. Jeg var ikke bevidst om det, men jeg kunne mærke det.
I virkeligheden havde jeg undersøgt dét jeg ville om leg og kunne konkludere: Leg er vigtigt, leg er uden alder og leg kan komme til udtryk på utallige måder. Dét, jeg manglede, var min egen tilknytning til dét at lege. Jeg troede, det var leg at skrive blogindlæg, men jeg tog fejl.

Depressionen bragte mig tilbage til min egen personlige legeplads fra jeg var barn: glæden ved at tegne. Glæden ved at lukke mig ind i mit indadvendte tegneunivers i kølvandet på udelukkende at have plejet min ekstroverte side i mange år. Siden februar har jeg nærmest tegnet non-stop. Nu er jeg dér, hvor jeg ved at tegneriet er nødt til at være en integreret del af mit liv fremover. Noget der er vigtigt for mit mentale velbefindende. Jeg skal pleje min introverte side for at fungere.

En af mine seneste tegninger.

Det er ikke fordi, jeg ikke er optaget af leg mere. Det er jeg, men jeg af optaget af leg som én ud af flere ressourcer, der er vigtige for os mennesker. Og det er dét, der er medvirkende til, at Legefakultetet ikke kan fortsætte i sine eksisterende rammer. Jeg vil skrive om mere end leg nu.

Legefakultetet var oprindeligt tænkt som en akademisk blog om leg og legekultur, men alle mine indlæg endte med at tage udgangspunkt i mine egne observationer og refleksioner. Jeg har skrevet om mine børns leg de seneste 3 år. I dag er de 15 og næsten 12 år, mine børn. LEGO-æraen er definitivt forbi. Legen foregår online nu.  Jeg har førsteparkets-adgang til at observere hvordan unge bruger sociale medier og Skype. Og det ér interessant at betragte, hvordan man leger gemmeleg i Call of Duty, læser lektier sammen via Skype eller går til cyber-haloweenfest i Guppy life. Men for det første har mine børn nået en alder, hvor jeg ikke længere vil ’udlevere dem’, for det andet synes jeg ikke ubetinget deres online-liv er til at klappe i hænderne af. Jeg er som mange andre forældre bekymret over det antal af timer, de bruger online, om de er i stand til et skelne mellem cyberverdenen og den virkelige verden (hvilket de synes at være, men det ændrer ikke på min bekymring). 

Mit interesseområde har bare generelt flyttet sig. Jeg er i dag i højere grad interesseret i, hvad identitet er for en størrelse og hvordan vi som mennesker ser hinanden med de ressourcer, vi hver i sær har, og hvordan vi ’udnytter’ dem bedst. Det er i øvrigt her, legen kommer ind. Min søn går i 9. klasse og der er aldrig én lærer, der har set eller anerkendt hans legeevner og overført dem som en kompetence i undervisningsregi. Og paradoksalt nok er dén evne måske hans største evne overhovedet. Stadigvæk. Både hvad angår idéudvikling og samarbejdsevner. Jeg bebrejder ikke hans lærere. Jeg bebrejder den måde, vi politisk set har skruet folkeskolen sammen på i dag.

Jeg tror på, at vi skal se på den enkeltes ressourcer frem for at køre efter en samlebåndsstrategi.
Den her samlebåndsstrategi starter allerede i folkeskolen, selvom politikerne i denne tid ynder at sige det modsatte, og både lærere og børn risikerer at blive presset på dét grundlag, og jeg kan virkelig ikke bære det. Jeg tror, at jo mere målrettet vores samfund bliver, desto mere sårbare bliver vi overfor de identitetsforandringer, vi risikerer at stå overfor i tilfælde af en fyring, sygdom eller andet der hiver os ud af tilværelsen, som vi kender den. Noget de fleste af os kommer til at opleve i løbet af vores liv. 

Hvordan sikrer vi den enkeltes identitetsfølelse sideløbende med det i stigende grad resultatorienterede samfund, vi lever i? I kølvandet på selv at have kæmpet for både min personlige og professionelle identitet gennem de sidste mange år, har jeg overvejelserne om ’hvem er jeg?’ og 'hvor hører jeg til?' tæt inde på livet. De her overvejelser har fyldt og fylder stadig rigtig meget i min bevidsthed. Jeg måtte stoppe som lærer pga en kronisk tarmsygdom for 5 år siden og nu har jeg en langvarig depression med i bagagen oveni. Er der overhovedet plads til én som mig på arbejdsmarkedet med min sygdomshistorik? 

En af mine seneste tegninger.

I skrivende stund tænker jeg, at jo mere elastisk min identitet er, jo større mentalt råderum. Det er under alle omstændigheder risikabelt at være gift med sin arbejdsidentitet. Men spørgsmålet er så, om det er for optimistisk at tro, at vi som moderne mennesker kan have så elastisk en identitet? Om vi mentalt overhovedet er gearede til det her omstillingsfikserede samfund. Jeg er personligt ikke særlig omstillingsparat. Jeg er langsom og har ingen stresstærskel, tilgengæld er jeg god til at observere og reflektere. Men den slags har de færreste arbejdspladser tid og råd til i dag.

Jeg ved min næste blog skal handle om nogle af de ovenstående overvejelser omkring leg, identitet, ressourcer og kunsten at turde tvivle  - og jeg ved den bliver på engelsk. Mit netværk er internationalt og jeg oplever, at vi slås med de samme problemstillinger på tværs af landegrænser. Jeg er næppe den eneste, der ikke kan følge med det tempo, samfundsudviklingen har på.
Jeg vil gerne sige tak til dem, der har fulgt med på denne nicheblog. 
På gensyn i en ny reflekterende blog.
- Når jeg starter en ny blog op – sandsynligvis efter jul – skriver jeg det her på Legefakultet.

VTS in an educational perspective in the danish school system

My speech about my experience with VTS at the first european symposium, held in Amsterdam september 2012.

VTS in an educational perspective in the Danish school system
VTS Symposium at The Reade Center. September 27th 2012.

By Monica Langelund

I am very happy that I’ve been invited to speak at this symposium. VTS has since 2009 grown to be more than a method to me and it’s a joy for me to be able to share this with an audience like you.

I will be talking about VTS in an educational perspective in the Danish school system in this speech, but let me start by introducing myself: My name is Monica Langelund, I’m from Denmark. And so far I’m the only one practising VTS in Denmark.
First, I’d like to give you a short introduction to how I found VTS, living in a tiny country on the other side of the world from the home country of VTS.

I have a background being a teacher in an elementary school, where the children are from the age 5-10. I was an art teacher for 6 years but stopped teaching back in 2008. From 2008-2011 I took a master degree in child- and youth culture with an antropological perspective focusing on aesthetic development and during my study I came across VTS. I first read about VTS through the website of the Eric Carle Picture Book Museum in Massachusetts. This museum has developed their own method with inspiration from VTS. I then googled VTS and it was clear to me that this method was something I had to learn so I read everything I could about VTS on their website and decided to go to Seattle to participate in the first course out of three.

I knew from the very first day at the course back in 2009 that VTS was ‘the answer’ to a lot of my frustrations I experienced as a teacher. Like how do I create an honest, true dialogue with my students? As a teacher I often ended up asking my students questions where I somehow had what I thought was the right answer in the back of my mind. I knew I wanted it to be different but I did not know how to approach this dilemma. VTS offered a concret method to keep focus on what the children actually would have to say, and not what I wanted them to say in a discussion. I guess you can say that VTS made it easier for me to focus on my own role as a teacher and at the same time I realised how difficult it is to change your routines and professional behaviour.

A group of children I did VTS with in 2010

With this in mind I went back to Denmark and got in contact with a school where I made an arrangement with a couple of teachers about doing VTS with their students once a month – on a volunteer basis. I started out with 3 different classes, but after one year I only continued with two of the classes.
The first half year was very frustrating for me on a personal level since I wasn’t working at the school. I never knew what room we would be in and sometimes we would end up in the library surrounded by a lot of noise. Once we even sat at the stairs and obviously it did not work at all. One of the classes had huge problems and ended up fighting in my one of VTS discussions. All in all I spend the first half year learning that to do VTS you need to create routines and have a suitable psysical room. So simple, yet so important. When I managed to have this arranged I experienced a group of children being really exited about VTS. I always started the discussions by repeating ‘remember you can’t say anything wrong here and I’d really like to hear what comes to your mind when you see this image...’. over time I experienced most of the children taking part in the discussions.

One story I like in particular is about a boy from the middleeast. Clearly he was skeptical about me being there so he tested me in the beginning. He had what I would call rather ‘silly’ comments about the image I showed the class but I paraphrased his comments and I think he realised that I respected him. Once he said something like they were all high and drunk in the image and the rest of the class disagreed but I let him speak. He ended up participating in the discussions, slightly insecure but still willing to try. Obviously he wasn’t used to this kind of attention and I realised he hardly had a language apart from the offensive language he had used in the beginning. I told his teacher that he participated and the teacher was supprised. Hussein? She would ask. And she was a good teacher but I don’t think she had the time – or dare I say skills - to actually see this boy’s ressources.  I always enjoy telling this story because to me this is indeed an example of the power of VTS. But it is also an example of how teachers tend to not give all students a fair chance even though the intention is to give all children a chance. The more I practise VTS, the more I integrate the essense of VTS in my life in general, the more I realise how we as teachers often have our own agendas even though we talk about dialogue based education.

I’ve taken this approach with me into my personal life too. I have an 11 year-old daugther. She loves all kinds of art and even though I’ve never done an actual VTS discussion with her she understands the essence of VTS. Earlier this year she said to me: You want to know what children see and what they think. You really like children.
I thought that was a nice comment because it said something about what’s important for a real dialogue, seen from a child’s perspective. Children need to feel seen, they need to feel safe to speak up. But as adults we tend to forget this in our eager to focus on the content of the dialogue. The content of a discussion seems to become more important than the participants. Quite often to a degree that makes the teacher do a monologue to make sure the so called important things will be said.
Shortly after my first visit to Seattle in 2009 I had a workshop with a group of teachers, introducing them to VTS. The workshop was arranged by a theatre organisation that wanted a better collaboration with the schools. It did not go very well, to be honest. Not only was I insecure. I did not understand the essence of VTS myself at that point. So, all the teachers were skeptical and holding back, obviously afraid of making a fool of themselves in a place outside their comfortzone.

Honestly, I felt like an idiot after that workshop but in reality I learned something very important. Most adults are not that different from children. Once we leave our comfort zone – nomatter where or what that is – we still need some kind of security. The framing of a VTS discussion offers that kind of security, I think. Because there’s room for all comments.
I’ve also realised that teachers can be really difficult to impress. I don’t know if it’s a danish thing but teachers are introduced to so many new ideas and programmes that I believe it’s a natural mechanism to avoid an inner meltdown. They HAVE to be critical. After all they deal with the education of the children on an everyday basis and they can’t integrate all the programs they are being introduced to. It’s just not possible.

Introducing VTS as another dialoguebased method to teachers doesn’t seem to impress them. There’s enough of that already. But once you focus on the role of the facilitator it is my experience that they will listen differently.

It’s taken me more than 3 years to fully understand the difference between VTS and other dialoguebased methods myself. I’ve met lots of critique and skepticism. But it’s quite clear to me now how VTS offers students a real chance to be heard in a safe environment. And the reason for this is the fairly strict role of the facilitator that ensures that the facilitator doesn’t end up taking the discussion into a direction he or she personally finds interesting. Which is probably what most teachers still do nowadays. Because it is how we are trained as teachers. Even in 2012.

Let’s go back to my experience doing VTS at this school.
It wasn’t only Hussein that had something to say about the images. I had specifically chosen a school with a high number of bilingual students that struggled and what I learned from doing VTS at this school was that a lot of the bilingual students had something to say about the image selection from VUE. I remember I had talked with the VTS staff whether the images would be suitable for danish school children or not, having this multicultural theme. It turned out it was a perfect selection for these children coming from such different cultures. It was quite often the bilingual students who were mostly engaged in the conversations, probably because they could relate to the images in a different way than the ‘danish’ students.

And this is where I have to add a critique of the Danish ministry of education. I had a meeting with them in january this year where I told them about VTS. I was quite honered to even get this appointment. They found the method to be interesting but they were very sketical about the images. I told them the images worked well but obviously some images by Danish artists would be relevant too.
 There’s an image with a mother sitting with what could be her naked child, wrapped in a blanket. The ministry of education said that they were worried about the reactions from the parents to these bilingual students, because the child was half naked.

In my opinion there’s nothing disturbing about that image and I tried to tell them that the particular image was very popular among the bilingual students because they could relate to the culture depicted in the image. They noticed details I had not even noticed or seen as important. But the ministry was not convinced. The same thing happend with an image of a Mardi Gras festival.

The ministry claimed that the children would not be able to relate to this image, it was too american. I told them the children had lots of things to say about that image. They talked about the clothes, the expressions on the faces, festivals in the streets, the houses. All the details in the photo. The children did not care if this was an american tradition or not. They made sense out of what they saw in the image. And they saw lots of things.
I think it’s relevant to tell about this meeting because to me it sums up where the official Denmark  is in terms of dialogue based education. Apparently we still want to ‘control’ not only what’s appropriate to talk about. We also seem to know what children have to say about art and how they see the world they live in. As adults we still know better.

I left the meeting with the Ministry of education with them suggesting I’d make a new method out of VTS, specifically developed for bilingual students. It took me half a day to think this over and my conclusion was: why change something that works? And why develop something for a specific group of children when the good thing about VTS is that anyone can participate. And learn from each other. The discussions I had with the children at this school became interesting because the children had such different backgrounds.

I was pretty desillusioned after this meeting because I felt very alone with this experience of what VTS offers. I adressed this frustration to Oren Slotsberg from the VUE in an email and he replied something I keep reminding myself. Oren had learned over the years that people higher up in the hierachy are less open to new ideas unless it is their own ideas. Oren, I hope it’s okay to quote you for this. I think it is very very true and it’s good to remember when you work outside the system and try and introduce something new. 
This is why an event like this in Amsterdam is so important. To keep focus and stay inspired despite the challenges we meet on our way. And adding to this I feel like telling that I tried to get the official danish school magazine to write about this event and focus on VTS but they replied that it did sound interesting but they would only write about things that were already integrated in the danish school system. And the experience I’ve done with VTS so far does not count as a valuable experience because I did it on a volunteer basis and there’s been no one to report back to.  
I know the dutch school magazine wrote about VTS because they called me and made an interview with me. And thumbs up for ‘daring’ to look new ways in the dutch school system!

I’ve also tried doing VTS with these school children where they had nothing to say about the image I showed them. Very frustrating! This was indeed a challenge for me. Maybe I personally found the image I showed them really interesting. Maybe I had been looking forward to this particular image and I wanted the children to have a nice discussion about this image. But I’ve decided right from the start of doing VTS that I wanted to practise the method as it is and not make up my own rules along the way when something seemed to be ‘not working’. This is not because I’m against creating new methods out of existing methods but because I know that it takes a lot of time to become a really good facilitator. And I know that if I had taken on the traditional role of the teacher when I met this silence from the class, I could loose what I had just created with this group of children. Mutual trust. The children understood within a few VTS-discussions the premises for VTS. They would often start by asking: What’s going on in this picture? before I even did.
The funny thing is that the children never had a problem with their silence if there wasn’t much to say about an image. And I guess there’s a lesson for children in that as well: they don’t always have to say something just because we as teachers want them to. That is a good reflection in itself.

I also did VTS with a group of kindergarden children in the age 5-6. Children usually start school at this age in Denmark and this group of children was about to finish life in kindergarden. One group was best friends and loved doing VTS-conversations. They had lots of things to say and their level of reflecting was surprisingly high. They did not only list things, but reflected on what they saw. I did my master thesis focusing on this group. They were 9 in all, 5 boys, 4 girls. I noticed how lively they were when they talked about the images. I found it disturbing but I ended up allowing them to get up to find out why they did it. They would get up, they would use their bodylanguage and they would interact with eachother. I knew this wasn’t part of the VTS-method since it’s a cognitive method focusing on aesthetic thinking, but what I learned from this group was that aesthetic thinking for this age is closely linked to their bodylanguage. They use their bodylanguage to express themselves. Because this is the language they are familiar with from physical play. When they play robots they become robots and act like robots. The development of a childs spoken language is closely linked to their physical movement. In our VTS-discussions the boys would get up and act like a jumping horse or a man with one leg and it would make it easier for them to find the words they were looking for. One day one of the boys couldn’t find the word he needed and he would look at his friend that could imitate a cowboy using a gun.


Now I still quite don’t know how to integrate this knowledge with the ‘traditional’ VTS-discussions. You obviously can’t have a large group of children jumping around while you’re doing VTS. At least I can’t. But if you as a kindergarden teacher learn the idea of VTS you may be able to use VTS in the daily conversations with the children creating room for physical movement while you talk.

I also went to a museum with both the school children and the kindergarden children. The kindergarden children had pen and paper with them and I gave them a drawing assignment after a VTS discussion. We had discussed an Alexander Calder mobile and the children had seen a rocket, a banana, a helicopter and other things in this mobile and I asked them to draw what they saw. It engaged them in the visit really well. The school children on the other hand did not get pen and paper and I found the visit to be missing something. I would like some day to make a project doing VTS for a whole year with a class, going regularly to the museum. I only had time to go once and I only had time to do writing samples with the kindergarden children because I was working in the kindergarden. So I can’t not ‘prove’ the change with the school children but I noticed growth.

This was one of the many frustrations of doing VTS as a volunteer - I couldn’t plan anything. I completely depended on the teacher’s interest in my project.  And since the teachers I collaborated with didn’t get paid for their part in the project they did not have much time or energy for the project. One of the teachers had a class with so many problems that we had to stop the VTS-discussions but I couldn’t help thinking what VTS could have done if the teacher or someone working at the school could do VTS with the class. That was indeed a class that needed to see and listen to eachother. The school principal at the school I did VTS at didn’t show any interest in the project. I did try to tell him about the project but I was basically this stranger that showed up once a month So I’ve also learned that working on a volunteer basis is good and noble and all, but if you want attention and respect and to be taken seriously you HAVE to get paid for what you do.

I do think though that the children liked the fact that I was someone from outside the school. I was different and I didn’t focus on their daily doings like homework etc. They always came to me and showed excitement. This proves to me how children react to VTS. Some days it seemed to be the logistics that was the biggest problem.
A teacher wrote a note to me after the first year of doing VTS at the school. She talked with her class and this is what they said about VTS:

We learn to listen to eachother, what we all have to say
We learn words we didn’t know to begin with
We learn to look at images
And everything we say has value and that is such a nice feeling.

The teacher hardly knew anything about VTS, but she would without doubt have been an excellent facilitator though - so this is indeed the childrens’ own words.

While I find it a challenge to get the ‘VTS-method’ through to the schools, the cultural world shows a different interest in VTS in Denmark.
A lot of work is done these years focusing on how to create better collaboration between cultural institutions like museums and theatres - and schools. Like most other contries Denmark has a lot of focus on test and good results within the school system. There’s another freedom within the arts to be less test-focused. The children’s theatres in particular find the VTS-method interesting. And as I mentioned already my very first VTS-job was in collaboration with a theatre foundation. I’ve done VTS a couple of times with a class after a theatre play. It worked really well, I think. One class was the class I knew from the school where I did VTS. Even though a VTS discussion based on a play and not an image is far more abstract the 4th graders did not have any problems participating in the discussion. The theatre group had some themes they hoped would be brought up by the children. And the children did bring up those themes by themselves. But they also talked about other things, that a more controlled dialogue would not necesarilly have left room for. For a lot of the children coming to the theatre was a whole new experience. They usually go to the cinema. So they had a lot of focus on the scenography, the costumes and the props and they managed to link these aspects of the play with the story.

It is my experience that what we as teachers need to get used to when doing VTS is the lack of conclusions and how a VTS discussion can end up in several unexpected directions. Control is definitely something we as teachers need to learn to let go of. Or redefine. Because most often I find that a VTS discussion ends up slightly chaotic and by that I mean without one red line going through the discussion. But I also have no doubt that new thoughts and a new understanding will come from this so called chaos.

I think we are in the middle of a paradigm shift in western education. And I believe VTS is part of the future. After I did my master thesis I’ve been contacted by students from 3 different Danish universities. They wanted to read my master thesis. Some studied communication. Some studied psychology and some pedagogy. It tells me that there’s a growing interest for doing things differently.

As a final note:
I tried doing VTS with a group of adults at a museum for a while. They were very well educated, they knew art history much better than me. They started out the first time as if it was a ‘I know more than you do’ competetion. But when they realised that it wasn’t the agenda they relaxed and we had some really interesting conversations where I found my role to be irrrelevant after a few discussions. One of the participants came to me and said. I go to museums on a regular basis. I’m in an art-group at my job but I’ve never before looked at art the way I do now. He was 60 years old.

In fact I often find myself seeing the world through VTS-glasses. Whenever I see conflicts, in the media or my daily life, VTS comes to my mind. How we need to learn the skills that VTS offers.
So I know I may sound slighty religious whenever I talk about VTS, but as I started out saying: VTS has become so much more than a method to me.

See the images mentioned in the speech HERE - you will find them under my name: Presentation Monica Langelund.
See a five minute clip of co-founder Philip Yenawine talking about VTS at the symposium HERE.

Legen ulmer og det samme gør Legefakultetet

Legefakultetet er ikke gået helt i stå, selvom der har været stille på bloggen de sidste måneder.
Der er mange ting der i denne tid falder på plads for mig i fht legens betydning for os, små såvel som store. På et tidspunkt bliver jeg i stand til at samle tankerne nok til at skrive om det.
Jeg fornemmer, at der på mange områder kommer mere og mere fokus på leg. Over hele verden. Jeg tror alvoren er ved at gå op for os - vi skal tage legen alvorligt.

Her og nu vil jeg lade denne lille video tale legens sag. Det er et tiltag, der skal blive til en hel film i spillefilmslængde om legens værdi. Baseret på crowdfunding. Jeg klapper i hænderne af begejstring over det her gode tiltag.
Læs evt mere her på siden: Seriously - the future depends on play!

'Failure gardening' - refleksioner om sammenhængen mellem havearbejde, leg, innovation og kunsten at turde fejle

Hvad har havearbejde, innovationstænkning, leg og en engelsk pige-eliteskole, der har afholdt ’failure week’ til fælles? En hel del faktisk og det gik op for mig, da jeg som mange andre haveejere brugte gårsdagens solrige marts-søndag i haven.

Jeg blev haveejer for små 5 år siden. Min familie og jeg overtog et hus, hvor den samme kvinde havde boet hele sit liv. Hun havde efter sigende været en habil gartner med sans for haveindretning. Vores have havde godt nok været overladt til sig selv en årrække, fordi kvinden i huset var blevet en ældre dame og ikke længere magtede havearbejdet selv. Vi fornemmede dog hurtigt, at der under forfaldet gemte sig en perle af en have. Løg i flere lag i jorden, stauder, roser og en del stedsegrønt i form af buske og træer. Og så et nyplantet bøgetræ, som barnebarnet havde hentet ind fra skoven, da et tidligere træ i haven afgik ved døden. Læg dertil massevis af ukrudt og vedbend.

Det var ikke vores drømmehave, for den var ikke særlig børnevenlig, men haven havde uden tvivl en historie - en sød en af slagsen - hvilket gjorde det svært for os at indtage haven og gøre den til vores egen. Vi kunne jo næsten høre den søde gamle kvindes stemme hviske i alt det stedsegrønne. Og vi ville så gerne værne om hendes gode ånd i huset.

Hyggelig terrasse, mens resten af haven lå faretruende hen og kaldte på modige havehænder.

At både min mand og jeg oveni er vokset op som ærkekøbenhavnere, der mere har trådt vores barnsben i asfaltbaggårde end blomsterbede, har ikke gjort situationen bedre. Vi kan ikke kende forskel på alt det grønne, der pibler op af jorden, når solen vinder over kulden og hiver de første små spirer op af jorden. Alt er potentielle blomster for en havenovice. Hvordan finder man modet til at hive noget som helst op af jorden i sådan en forgangen pragthave, med så lidt haveviden?

Jeg har holdt mig inden for den nybyggede træterrasses område de første 4 år. Sået sommerblomster i krukker og nydt alt det, der er piblet op af jorden gennem sommerhalvåret og forsøgt at ignorere alt det, der generede mit øje ude i selve haven. Og jeg har fortalt mig selv at jeg nok ’alligevel ikke er så meget havemenneske som jeg troede’. Sandheden er at jeg mistede lysten til at gøre noget ved haven, fordi fortiden fik lov at dominere haven. For et godt års tid siden begyndte vi så at fælde nogle af de stedsegrønne buske. Det føltes lidt som mord at slå den første fine grøn busk ihjel, den havde jo intet gjort - andet end at være lidt for stedsegrøn og skygge for udsigten til resten af haven. Men for hver ting vi fældede eller gravede op dukkede en lille ny spire af lyst til at gå i haven op. En ny start ventede forude.

Og på denne skønne forårssøndag forleden skulle hele familien så i haven. Det var varslet med et ’nu skal vi alle sammen i haven og lave havearbejde!’ Problemet var bare, at når mine børn spurgte, hvad de kunne hjælpe med, så kunne jeg ikke svare. Det gik op for mig, at jeg stadig var bange for at gøre noget forkert i haven. Som om der var en usynlig facitliste på ’veludført havearbejde’. Nok var det gamle væk, men hvordan kommer man så i gang med ’det nye’, hvis man stadig føler sig på udebane? Én ting var sikkert: Vælger man det sikre, så vælger man også det forudsigelige. Og der er jo det forunderlige med haver, at tingene vokser frem igen eller kan sås igen. Så hvad har jeg i grunden frygtet?

Mine unger valgte i stedet at tumle rundt og lege i haven som de plejer og det slog mig, at jeg skulle angribe haven som en legeplads, ligesom dem. En legeplads hvor processen er vigtigere end resultatet. Sådan som det er med al leg. Og det slog mig i den forbindelse, at der netop i legen er plads til at fejle - og lære af fejlene, akkurat som den engelske elitære pigeskole Wimbledon High School har afholdt en 'failure week' for at de perfektionistiske piger kan lære at turde fejle. Et tiltag jeg er meget begejstret for i uddannelsessammenhæng, så hvorfor ikke også i privatlivet? Faktisk tror jeg dét 'at fejle' er det nye sort. Vi skal omfavne det, ikke frygte det.
Jeg skulle med andre ord anskue havearbejdet med helt andre briller, end jeg hidtil har gjort.
I en tid hvor vi taler om guerilla gardening, stod det efter små 5 år klart for mig, at min vej ind i haveverdenen er via ’failure gardening’. Min have er min legeplads og her er det tilladt at fejle som en del af den læreproces, det er at blive 'havekompetent'.

På en enkelt søndag har vi været mere konsekvente end de første 4 år som haveejere. En række stauder vi aldrig har brudt os om røg op af jorden, en masse løg – uvist om det er tulipanløg, påskeliljer eller andet – blev flyttet – uden at vide om man overhovedet kan dét. Men de stod midt på græsplænen efter at en busk var fjernet og havde frigivet halvdelen af det bagerste af haven. Én pæon blev også flyttet, velvidende at det er ’meget risikabelt’ at flytte på sådan en sart plante (et argument der tidligere har afholdt mig fra at flytte noget som helst i haven) og en anden pæon døde, fordi vi overså den i vores graveiver. Jep. Vi slog en af mine yndlingsblomster ihjel ved en fejl. Og jeg er alligevel lykkelig. For vi gjorde noget og indtog haven som vores og har haft den bedste dag i haven, muligvis nogensinde.

Vi kommer med sikkerhed til at begå flere fejl. For forude venter en række nye spørgsmål, som jeg allerhelst vil lege mig frem til nu: Hvordan anlægger man egentlig et staudebed, der helst skal blomstre hele sommerhalvåret? Kan man flytte en fejlplaceret og halvvissen klematis og kan den komme sig igen? Hvordan lærer man at kende forskel på grønt som i ukrudt og grønt som i fin lille blomst? Og hvad er det med det der rosenbeskæring?

Med denne fejlorienterede, legende tilgang til havearbejde bliver det også nemmere at inddrage børnene. Jeg behøver ikke være den med svarene, som da min søn spurgte hvor langt et bestemt løg skulle graves ned. Øh bøh, svarede jeg og burde have fulgt det op med: Jeg ved det faktisk ikke, men lad os prøve at finde ud af det sammen.
Hvis børn skal lære, at det er ok at turde fejle må deres lærere eller forbilleder vel gå foran og vise, at det er ok ikke at have alle svarene på forhånd, og at det man forsøger sig med kan vise sig at være forkert.

Innovations- og nytænkningen kommer ind i billedet her, fordi denne tilgang til havearbejde kan overføres til andre områder, hvor der skal skabes nye resultater, også uden for haveregi.
Gårsdagens haverefleksioner får mig derfor til at konkludere, at innovationstænkning handler om mod på flere planer:

1) Man må indimellem turde slippe noget af det eksisterende, også selvom det er smukt, godt eller rummer gode fortællinger, for at give plads til noget nyt og for at tage ejerskab over et projekt, uanset om det handler om en have, et arbejdsmiljø, noget der skal re-brandes eller noget helt syvende.

2) Man må gå til ’det nye’ med en legende, afprøvende, undersøgende tilgang. Især hvis man er på udebane og intet ved om sit emne. Hvad sker der hvis?... Akkurat som børn gør det i deres leg. Det er muligvis i legen, at vi er allermest modige, fordi vi her tør slippe kontrollen. Det er jo ’bare noget vi leger....’. Og man kan ikke 'lege forkert', højest prøve igen og igen ind til legen eller projektet lykkes. Sådan som det foregår når børn fx. lærer at holde balancen på et bræt, hoppe på eet ben eller tegne mangaøjne.

3) Man må omfavne det at fejle og lære af det. Næste gang vi er effektive i haven herhjemme, vil jeg nok lige passe lidt bedre på den pæon, der er tilbage.
Heldigvis var det den med mange blomster, der overlevede (hvis den altså overlever flytningen, det vides endnu ikke om dét også var en fejl).
Fidusen i god innovations- og nytænkning må være at forsøge at bevare det bedste af det bestående og turde slippe alt det andet, der ellers risikerer at ende som ’dødvægt’. Også selvom dødvægten er forklædt som en smuk pæon.

Creativity is all about hard work

Editors note: This blogpost about creativity is written by danish architect and co-founder Mikkel Frost from Cebra Architects.

WORK
by Mikkel Frost

Stale
Over the last decade, the word creative has totally lost its value. Since the term has been both misused and overused it has become a virtually meaningless cliché. Creative is something everybody wants to be – or it’s something people outside of the arts want to be around. Creative is one of the most commonly-used words in job applications as applicants know that every employer wants creative people. If all job applications were true, most people on the planet would be creative. Creative has become so cool that it is actually not cool at all. When you hear people or companies say that they are creative you can be sure that they are not – they just want to be.

1st prize competition - Experimentarium in Hellerup in Denmark - Cebra Architects

Hard work
Some clients believe that talented architects are creative around the clock. They think that their creativity is like a river of ideas and brilliant thoughts in which they can fill their bucket at will. To a certain extent this is true. Truly creative people get good ideas, but only rarely at gun point. Most of the time you don´t just get an idea – you build it. It does happen that lightening strikes and that the artist is filled with inexplicable divine inspiration, but let´s be honest: most of the time it’s all about hard work. In this sense creative people are just hard working people who won´t settle for the ordinary.


From time to time, we actually meet clients who´ll spend 15 minutes describing their commission before ending their presentation by asking, “So, what´s your take on this – what should it look like?”. In these situations, it would be great if we could verbally supply a finished blueprint, and we´d definitely make a lot more money that way. But this is not how it works. Most commissions are complex and even the most skilled architect has to analyze and digest the parameters and challenges it presents before a creative design can be achieved. This fact is closely related to the notorious problem of billing. When a client is presented with a simple plan – maybe even a single piece of paper – he´ll often wonder why he has to pay so much for it. The thing is that he doesn´t see all the work it took to get there. He doesn´t know that the bin is overflowing with discarded plans and proposals that led to the one solution in front of him. He doesn´t expect creativity to be hard work.

An education House for science in Bjerringbro, Denmark - Cebra Architects

Stealing
Creativity is linked to innovation, which is another word that has been known to turn many people’s stomachs. There is an idea that creativity leads to innovation and innovation is obviously about inventing new things – new never-been-seen-before things. We´ve managed to stay in touch with our local architectural school and have had the pleasure of both teaching and attending critiques from time to time. During these sessions, it is clear that the students expect themselves to be creative and innovative – and so they should. However, and this is where it gets interesting, some students – especially freshmen – feel that they have to invent everything from scratch. That studying the works of great architects is like cheating. Imagine a writer who refused to read novels or a composer who refused to listen to music so no one could accuse him of not being original! Paul McCartney is supposed to have said that “everybody steals, but the good ones only steal from the best” and this is the essence of most creativity.

1st prize competition 'Isbjerget'/residence - in Aarhus in Denmark - Cebra Architects

Most of the time creating something is about putting the right parts together. Just like doing a collage or welding metal scraps together like Robert Jacobsen. Almost any work of art – poetry, music or architecture – is a collection of memories combined and used in a new way. Even the Sydney Opera House, which is probably one of the most striking architectural inventions ever, gained its inspiration from somewhere else. Utzon never hid the fact that he stole, or if you prefer borrowed, the Mayan concept of plateaus he saw in the Mexican jungle and turned them into his own architecture. In short, no invention is made from nothing and creativity is strongly linked to knowledge and experience.

1st. prize competition - Design Kindergarden in Kolding in Denmark - Cebra Architects

Wizardry
Most people would agree that the greatest artists are born with special talents. On the other hand, if we forget about the genius of rare people like Mozart or Picasso, creativity is something that can be learned or at least developed. This doesn´t mean that everybody can become a great architect, but most people can become a good one. Creativity is not only a gift – it is also a mindset and to some extent a working method.

As already mentioned, most innovation is the result of hard, unceasing work. In our office, we never settle for the first idea we get. In the end, we might return to that first intuitive pitch but not before we’ve been through numerous different schemes, and we will keep questioning the durability of a concept right up to the deadline. Some refer to this method as a kind of architectural Darwinism. We bring ideas to life but only the fittest will survive – or mutate to do so. Architects who become easily pleased with their ideas – and this is a common trap that even the best can fall into – often miss out on realizing the full potential of their work. A creative person will keep trying to improve the thing he is doing. The composer Gershwin said, “I don’t need more time, I need a deadline!” Without a time frame, we´ll go on improving our work forever.

Often outsiders ask us why we always have to pull all-nighters at the end of a deadline, “Couldn’t you just start earlier?”. In their minds architecture is like cutting firewood. The thing is – and this can be learned – that a creative process is about continual reworking and mass murdering your darlings. Most creativity can be compared with Hogwarts: partly magic but mostly practice.

Planning/competition - Gellerup - Cebra Architects

Tomfoolery
CEBRA has designed quite a few schools for both children and young adults. Through this, we´ve met numerous teachers, students and their parents, and we often hear them talk about the creative subjects. By this, people mean everything related to subjects such as music and painting. There is a deep-rooted presumption that creativity is basically just fooling around with bongo drums and paints. However, we must realize that much of what surrounds us is the result of creativity. And this is also true of the negative aspects of modern life, such as the highly destructive atom bomb. When thought of in this way, we can see that creativity is not just related to certain disciplines.

Whenever human capability expands, it is usually a result of creativity. This was the case when Ford revolutionized production methods so cars could be produced quickly and therefore more cheaply. It was the case when John Pemberton invented Coca Cola and it was the case when the Wright brothers finally realized Leonardo da Vinci’s principles of aviation. There is really no difference between a Picasso and an iPhone. They are both proof of human creativity. The reason that creativity can be applied in every field is because it is basically a working method. It is a process during which designers, poets or scientists keep questioning their work and results and revising habits and traditions. This is the very core of architectural development: we try every day to do new and better things. Not because architecture itself is creative, but because creative architects keep trying.

Editors note: See more of Cebras work at www.cebra.info.
You will also find this blogpost in Cebras latest publication, which can be seen here:

Zendoodling. Leg, kreativitet og meditation i eet.

Jeg har genoptaget min lyst til at tegne. Jeg har kastet mig over 'zendoodling'...som er et fint ord for hvad mange af os gør bevidst eller ubevidst, når vi fx. taler i telefon: tegner kruseduller.
Zendoodling er leg med kruseduller. Det er meditation for kontrolfikserede mennesker. Og det smitter. Vi er flere i min omgangskreds der doodler nu.
Jeg har oprettet en side på Facebook under navnet United Zendoodlers. Ideen er at dele doodletegninger, finde inspiration og fastholde hinanden i at det først og fremmest er og skal være sjovt at tegne. Og alle kan deltage uanset 'niveau'. Der er også masser af videoer på Youtube, der kan inspirere.
Personligt er jeg fascineret af at det samme enkle materiale med mange af de samme grundfigurer kan få så forskellige udtryk.
Jeg har lavet en 'kom godt i gang video' her:

10 minutters daglig leg på recept, mod depression.

- et blogindlæg om leg, depression og jagten på lykken.

Leg og depression er hinandens modsætninger. Det ved jeg nu, ikke bare i kloge ord, men af værdifuld erfaring.
Min blog er min personlige legeplads. Det vil mange bloggere nok nikke genkendende til. Vi leger med ord, billeder, skaber historier, undersøger og reflekterer over hvad der end må være vores blogs tema eller omdrejningspunkt. I mit tilfælde handler min legeplads tilfældigvis om netop leg – leg i mange afskygninger.
Men når depressionen sætter ind, sætter legen ud. Da jeg fik konstateret en svær depression i efteråret 2011, var min evne til selv at lege og til at spotte leg omkring mig på nulpunktet.

Det er ikke for sjov, at man kalder en depression for en sygdom. En sygdom der lammer alle vitale centre i både krop og hjerne – herunder evnen til at lege. For alt bliver meningsløst. Og den tilstand er det livsnødvendigt at komme ud af. Når man får diagnosen klinisk svær depression følger der af samme grund ofte både medicinsk behandling og kognitiv terapi med.

Man bliver dog ikke lykkelig af lykkepiller. Men lykkepiller – eller antidepressiv medicin som jeg foretrækker at kalde det - er nødvendig damagecontrol i medicinsk form der gør, at man som deprimeret bl.a. bliver i stand til at fokusere på, hvad det så ér, der gør én mere lykkelig.

Alt er mørkt og meningsløst under en depression.

I genopbygningsfasen under og efter selve depressionen har vi heldigvis fået god fokus på kost, motion og betydningen af at tage den med ro. Det er her, jeg befinder mig nu. Jeg kalder det min ’tal sagte, gå stille’ fase.
Jeg kan ikke lade være med at tænke, at det i denne fase også kunne være relevant for professionelle fagfolk at anbefale deres patienter og klienter at have fokus på legens betydning.
Kunne man ligefrem forestille sig noget som ’Receptpligtig leg’?
Jeg ser det for mig: En lille pilleæske uden indhold, men med en label hvorpå der står ’10 minutters leg dagligt i 2 uger, herefter 20 minutter dagligt’. Og indholdet er så op til én selv, for hvad vi opfatter som leg er individuelt.

Forleden legede jeg gemmeleg med min 10-årige datter i kælderen på hendes opfordring. Jeg har vist ikke rigtig leget gemmeleg, siden jeg selv var barn. Heldigvis har vi en rodet kælder, så der var et par gode voksen-gemmesteder. Og da de var opbrugt, var det sjovt at gemme sig bag en dør, og blive opdaget med det samme, alene fordi det var komisk. Og gæt engang. Det fik smilet frem.
Efter 20 minutter var jeg træt og gik op og sov.
Det er også sjovt at spille WII. Om det så er til Just Dance, Wii Resort eller i et håbløst forsøg på at følge med ungerne i en avanceret Mario-bane er lige meget. Det er bare sjovt og meningsfuldt at lege sammen.

Og app. leg og spil. Jeg blev den heldige ejer af min første smartphone ved juletid. Her kan man tale om en digital legeplads, der er overkommelig for en post-deprimeret: spil, tegneprogrammer, quizzer. Jeg har en masse kloge P1 podcasts liggende og en fantastisk virtuel rundvisning i kunsthistorien via en app for The National Gallery i London, men der er ikke meget leg i dem for mig. Jeg ender i stedet med at tegne farverige cirkler i den komplet formålsløse app ’Wurm’, slå min egen rekord i det supersimple spil ’Tiny Wings’, spille Wordfeud eller driste mit trætte hoved til lidt hjerneleg i app’en Brain Trainer.

En god veninde og jeg går regelmæssige ture i skoven. Vi er begge trætte pt. og har derfor omdøbt skoven til vores personlige Mount Dyrehaven. En stigning på 100 meter kræver flere basecamps undervejs og vi joker med faren for at glide ned af de stejle bjergsider og lide den visse bjergbestigerdød (læs: en lille skråning mellem to stier). Vi gør de ugentlige gåture til en fantasileg på et plan, hvor vi selv kan følge med, når nu vi begge er for trætte til intensiv intervaltræning eller powerwalks. Resultatet: vi er stadig i elendig form, men vi griner – af og med hinanden - når turen er slut, for det har været en lille leg midt i en svær tid. Det er mindst lige så meget værd som medicin, kognitiv terapi og sund kost.

Jeg er faktisk slet ikke i tvivl, nu hvor jeg har mærket depressionens mørke på egen krop. Det er vores evne til at lege, der gør os lykkelige. Det er vores evne til at lege, der bringer os videre i livet. Uanset hvad dén leg så må være. Om den er fysisk, kommer til udtryk i ord, fortællinger, billeder, lave mad, synge.... Det fantastiske er at legen på én og samme tid kan være så formålsløs og så meningsfuld. Og forandre sig i takt med at vi forandrer og udvikler os. Om et år leger min veninde og jeg fx næppe pseudobjergbestigere mere.

Og måske jeg også skulle tilføje, at man ikke kommer gennem en depression alene. Omsorg, tålmodighed og forståelse fra omverdenen er afgørende. Der følger en ny slags sårbarhed - en god én af slagsen - med en i kølvandet på en depression. Det er godt at vide for den deprimerede og det er godt at vide for omverdenen. Og i en tid hvor depression er udråbt til en af Vestens - desværre - helt store folkesygdomme, tænker jeg det med sårbarheden er relevant at huske. Hvor mange der render rundt og er sårbare i denne tid...Lad os bruge det til at nærme os hinanden frem for at isolere os. Bl.a. via leg.
Det kan fx være en stor hjælp, at andre inviterer til leg, når man selv har mistet evnen til at lege. Invitationen kan komme fra børn, voksne såvel som dyr. En hund, der gerne vil kaste pind, er en åbenlys legeinvitation. Jeg hørte faktisk for nylig om en depressionsramt kvinde, der fik af vide af sin læge, at hun skulle låne en hund at gå tur med dagligt. Så måske idéen med recept-pligtig leg slet ikke er så usandsynlig....
Kunsten er at finde en leg, man kan overkomme.
Og når legen så atter lister sig tilbage i ens liv, ved man at depressionen så småt er på tilbagetog og man er på vej tilbage til livet.

Som afslutning på dette indlæg er det mere end nogensinde passende at citere legeforsker Brian Sutton-Smith: 'Once you stop playing, you start dying'.
Tro mig...han har ret!