I believe in the importance of art as a social good, and in the value of its accessibility to all people.
Like most of our world, the film industry was built on a foundation of discrimination, and that systemic bias continues today. Film sets and production offices can be particularly unfriendly places for women, people of color, and members of the LGBTQ+ community; I’ve lost count, for instance, of my female friends who have abandoned careers in technical film production because they felt so excluded on set. Their departure—and the departures of those who have had similar experiences—is a devastating loss to an industry that is infuriatingly slow to change. Feminism is not only for women; race justice is not only for people of color; equality is not only for the oppressed. Making art and building classrooms that embrace and celebrate diversity benefits us all by inviting us to participate in a world that is larger and more complex than ourselves and our own experiences.
This isn’t just a question of encouraging diversity in the production process, either: issues of representation spill over into course design. Although I do my best to screen work by artists outside of the institutionally selected cinematic canon, the fact remains that most filmmakers who have seen significant material success (in Hollywood, but also in independent and avant-garde film) are a distinctly homogenous bunch. This is something students can and should be discussing with their peers in class, and those discussions introduce a host of questions:
- How should we appreciate the genuinely valuable works of these filmmakers, knowing that their success came at the expense of other artists who were systematically silenced by institutional discrimination?
- What do our aesthetic preferences tell us about ourselves? Are the aesthetic preferences of the contemporary film industry and audience inherently prejudiced against certain identities?
- How do these concerns illuminate greater issues in our society at large?
- What is our responsibility as artists making work today?
I don’t often explicitly introduce such discussion topics because I find my students are more willing to engage with them if they arise organically, from other conversations—which they frequently do. In those situations, my responsibility is to step back, make some room in the schedule to accommodate what usually becomes a much longer discussion, and occasionally ask a guiding or clarifying question. This content can be difficult to cover, particularly for students of privilege who haven’t yet had to confront the ways in which their advantages might come at a cost to others, but engaging with these problems as early as possible in their academic careers has the potential to make them more mindful citizens—not only in the context of their art practice and education, but also in their lives more broadly.
Of course, there are more direct ways I try to make my classes more welcoming to students who may have felt excluded in the past. My experiences teaching at a community college and an access university have given me ample opportunities to work with a diverse population of students who often need additional support to succeed in class: something as simple as allowing some flexibility in assignment due dates and building in-process critiques and conferences into long-term assignment schedules can make a world of difference in the academic trajectories of nontraditional students who work or have families to care for, and for incoming first-generation students who don’t have a frame of reference for exactly what is expected of them in college.
As should be the case, this work is never done. In addition to making my courses more accessible to nontraditional and first-generation students, I hope to find ways to further decolonize my approach to teaching, rely less on lecture, and encourage adventurous collaboration between students.