June 3, 2007

Proud father that I am, I was there to watch my daughter dance; I didn’t expect an eighth grade talent show to make me feel so good about being part of the College of Arts and Letters.

Several singers, a couple of pianists, some dancers, the obligatory rock band.  In many ways the show was what one would expect of a middle school assembly.  Bold yet self-conscious 14-year olds with a last chance to show off before merging with the horde of high school freshmen.  My daughter and two of her friends from dance class were to perform a lyrical dance trio.  They were the very last act on the program, so I settled in to watch the other dozen acts while waiting for the performance I really came to see.

 
I need to say, first, that there were some wonderfully talented kids.  Some of our departments would do well to start recruiting a few of these young people right now.  And I imagined where some of them would go to school, whether they were talented enough to pursue performing careers.  I thought of our students in arts and letters, and I remembered fondly my own experiences in band, choirs, and theatre “back in the day.”  But what struck me more powerfully than the talent on display was the joy that I both saw and felt.

 
The lead guitarist in the four-piece rock band, for the most part concentrating intently on his fingering, every so often would look up at the crowd and this grin would sneak across his face; a grin that said, “This is so cool!  I can’t believe I’m doing this!”  A jazz combo, its talented trumpeter, drummer and bassist emancipated from the restrictions of the eighth grade jazz band charts, let loose with a medley of jazz classics.  The trumpeter – who at one point grandstanded by playing his instrument held upside down – paused with obvious pride to applaud the drummer during one impressive stretch.  Student after student laid out all they had for their several hundred classmates, and I cheered for each one.

I was moved.  When one girl sweetly crooned her Carrie Underwood tune, I actually felt a lump rise in my throat.  I am not particularly sentimental, so what was it about these performances that affected me?  I was caught up in the joy of their creativity.  Even as an observer, I experienced the exhilaration and pride of the performers right along with them.  And I was reminded, one more time, just how important such experiences are.

Most of these students won’t be professional performers or artists; most of them probably won’t even major in a performance area in college.  But they all know the thrill of creating something beautiful and sharing it with others.  They all will carry memories of making themselves precariously vulnerable and reaping the appreciation of their peers, teachers, and families.  Every kid, every person, needs and deserves such experiences. 

Fortunately such experiences are not restricted to people who can play an instrument or learn choreography.  Everyone shares a capacity for creativity, for expression.  Nowhere is this more evident or more valued than in the disciplines of our college.  Our majors enter our programs already knowing something of the joy of creating through music, art, writing, dance, film, acting and other expressive forms.  Except for the students themselves, no one experiences greater thrill in their creativity than their teachers.  Exploring, harnessing, training, and celebrating those creative talents are our purpose.

This purpose is not limited to our arts and letters students, though.  Hopefully students in our general education classes are reminded of their capacity, even their need, to be creative.  And hopefully they expand their capacity to revel in the creativity of others.

We are the college of creativity, and not just with respect to the fine and performing arts.  The technical writer who finds ways of making difficult information accessible and useful to her readers; the organizational communication student who appreciates that meanings are created through symbols and mundane rituals; the German major who learns not just to speak but to think and imagine in a new language; these and every other arts and letters student are putting their creative abilities to work and experience the thrill of making new things and making things new.

That is why I love being part of this college, because the joys of creativity abound in our hallways, classrooms, and offices every day; because our students learn both the practical and aesthetic value of their creative talents; and because our education majors go on to teach young people like my daughter how to dance, sing, play the clarinet, and take chances for the sake of joy.

Oh, my daughter danced beautifully, by the way.  There was a time when I would make such pronouncements  with only the authority of a proud parent.  Now I can lean over to the parent next to me and say, “That girl’s really good.  I should know – I’m the Dean of the College of Arts and Letters.”

June 1 marked my first day as Dean of the College of Arts and Letters.  Aside from the ill-timed shutdown of the Craig Hall elevator, I have to say, “so far, so good.”  Another week and we will be full tilt into summer school, Tent Theatre, and the Missouri Fine Arts Academy, to name just a few major activities.  The week of June 11 Egyptian author Dr. Nawal El Saadawi will return to Springfield to lead four workshop sessions on autobiography.  These workshops will be held at the Springfield Library Center and are free to faculty, students, staff, and community members.  Dr. El Saadawi’s visit is made possible by funding from the College of Arts and Letters and the English department.  I hope your summer is off to a great start.