REDEFINING ELDERSHIP: A Letter to the Arts Education Community

By Jeff M. Poulin

As our team has been expanding our thinking and articulating bold ideas about Intergenerational Collaborations this year—specifically about genuine collaborations and redefining eldership in the first half of the year—I wanted to share my perspectives about eldership from the point of a mid-career practitioner in the arts education field.

Through my own reflective process, I examined the actions and attributes of elders throughout my career (so far!) and realized a few things:

  1. Inclusion Should be Radical;

  2. Power Hoarding is the Enemy; and

  3. Young Activist Staff are the Best Possible Addition to Your Team.

I draw conclusions that we should welcome a diversity of perspectives because productive dissent is healthy for the future of our work.

In my recent blog, I wrote about my own origin story balancing between youth activism and artistic practice. I concluded this piece by interweaving the concepts of equitable intergenerational collaboration and cyclical mentorship. I wholeheartedly believe in the power of these models and view them as roadmaps for the future of our collective work.

That said, I have been recently doing a lot of reflecting in a number of settings (read: in therapy, with family, at happy hour) about my role as a mid-career practitioner in the field of arts education caught in what feels akin to the sandwich generation—middle-aged adults sandwiched between caring for aging parents and supporting growing children. In particular, what has emerged for me is that I feel well-versed and equipped to both engage in the support and cultivation of younger folks emerging into the field, and also learn from and collaborate with elders in our field. 

But, what has rocked my world is thinking about my role as an elder—I mean, c’mon, I’m 33—simply because I have seen so many examples of eldership and have a true fear that I may accidentally replicate the harmful ones.

For those who don’t know me, my career has been both spectacular and incredibly traumatizing. Sparing you the details, I have experienced some of the best mentors in the world (artistically, educationally, philosophically) and have had my most traumatizing work experiences play out in public forums. At times it has left me feeling supported and powerful; and at times, it has left me feeling like I need to pack my bags and go.

So, for this series—and with my big feelings about my current positionality in the field—I did what any good researcher does and I used myself as data (read more about Creative Generation’s Ethnographic and Heuristic Approach to Inquiry here). Here was my process:

  1. I went on three walks over the course of three days…listen, the weather has been beautiful and Tina loves a good walk; plus walking is a valuable research method

  2. Upon my return home, I cataloged a list of elders that emerged in my thinking into two categories: A.) Elders Who Positively Impacted My Development and B.) Elders Who Negatively Impacted My Development

  3. On my second walk, I contemplated List B (starting with the negative) and brainstormed the actions and attributes which I did not want to replicate. Upon my return home, I wrote a letter to these folks containing my thematic realizations.

  4. On my third walk, I contemplated List A (concluding with the positive) and brainstormed the actions and attributes which I did want to replicate. In similar fashion, upon my return home, I wrote a letter to these folks containing my thematic realizations.

  5. Then I went away for the weekend - this is a strategic pause to let it simmer.

  6. On Monday, I reviewed the two letters and using a process similar to Camea Davis’ Critical Poetic Inquiry, I combined the creative works (in this case, letters) into a final piece to share as data presentation.

What follows is the final letter containing the outcomes of my walking researcher, artistic practice as documentation and analysis, and final thoughts.