Program Developer Erin Drews reflects on art during the COVID-19 crisis through the lens of basketball.
School re-opens tomorrow for the second half of the 2020-2021 academic year, and it’s led me to deeply reflect on what the last year held for our organization. Because I grew up in the land of corn and Bobby Knight, my mind naturally goes go basketball.
I was born into in a big basketball family in Indiana. My grandfather, my father, and my brother all played Division I basketball, and my dad was a successful high school coach for the majority of my upbringing. Friday nights were spent at North Side gymnasium among much of my hometown while we cheered on the Blue Blazers, and Saturdays were occasionally spent traveling the Hoosier state with my dad to scout teams that they might play later in the season. Ever been to a ball game? You’ll readily hear the sound of squeaking from the floor. Few things sound as much like “home” for me as this very sound, and it’s a result of sneakers shifting to pivot. Pivoting in basketball is the quick, intentional action that the ball-handler can take by rotating around a pivot foot without picking it up. Proper footwork allows an offensive player to seek openings in order to pursue action: take a shot, make a pass, or journey toward the basket. I’ve often observed the imperative nature of pivoting when a clear path is needed, but there isn’t one in sight. Instead it’s creating a path.
This time last year we were planning classroom visits for recruitment and seeing a greater number of registrations than ever before. When the Spring 2020 semester began, CultureWorks celebrated the fact that nearly 50% of our students that semester took their first class ever with us. We had an excellent team of CW staff, an amazing intern, and wonderful teaching artists. When Shelter-in-Place hit in mid-March we were left to think quickly in order to maintain momentum. I lived with my best friend during the beginning of the Pandemic. In this time, I made countless phone calls to donors and friends of CW, during which my friend pointed out she often heard me use the phrase “programmatic pivot.” That phrase continued to ring true for us throughout 2020:
- When schools shut down we mailed hand-written letters and made phone calls to check in with all of our currently registered students and their families.
- When we learned that schools would not be reopening we rounded out the final 5 weeks of our 10-week programs with a mix of virtual classes and pre-recorded video content. We even added a class, and distributed supplies to students when needed.
- When we thought about how difficult it must be for families at home we provided 8 weeks of at-home artistic resources and daily learning prompts.
- When we planned our Summer programs we shifted the structure of classes and provided all outdoor learning experiences.
- When we considered how to stay connected in our community we figured out exciting new ways to continue & grow Community Partnerships with The Holland Area Arts Council, The Outdoor Discovery Center, 3Sixty, Lighthouse Treatment Program, and Hope College Trio Upward Bound.
- When we worried about how to host our annual Student Advisory Council Retreat (typically a weekend-long experience of professional development and teambuilding), we landed on a day of kayaking, creating, and reflecting that proved equally meaningful.
- When we planned our Fall programs and workshops we kept groups sizes small, enforced safety, and considered new ways that art can be used as a point of connection during an incredibly isolating time.
- When our Fall Benefit couldn’t occur we told our story through new avenues, connecting with the people who pour into CultureWorks in freshly intentional ways.
These are just a handful of ways we’ve spent the year working on our footwork: pivoting to create paths when there aren’t clear ones in sight. Sometimes I forget how much we accomplished in a difficult year. Other days (like today) I am floored by it. I am really proud of us and even more proud of the resilience of our students, the creativity of our community, and the generosity of the people around us.
School begins tomorrow and though it looks different than a year ago, I oddly feel more prepared for anything that comes our way. Why? Because while creating paths is scary, stressful, and bizarre business, we know our own capacity for playing the game.
