Empowering Youth Beyond the Museum: The Racial Justice Institute
Dalila Huerta, Co-organizer, the Racial Justice Institute, Snite Museum of Art and the Civil Rights Heritage Center
Museums provided access to dreams when I was growing up in Chicago as the daughter of working-class Mexican immigrants. Despite language and economic barriers, when I visited a museum I could “travel” around the world, experience different cultures, and escape to a different time. I would spend hours with my mother — both of us lacking any formal art education — looking at art and allowing ourselves to be fully immersed in what we saw. I took comfort in knowing that I had access to the luxuries of the rich and that the products of my culture — the tapestries, pottery, paintings, and prints of Mexico — were displayed alongside gilded European masterpieces. I didn’t fully understand the colonial nature of museums at this age; I just marveled at my ability to experience so much beauty in my life.
When I pursued a career in museum education, I hoped to share this same excitement with other students. However, when I have encountered students in the museum I have often seen and heard their pain, surprise, and confusion. While the museum provided comfort and excitement for me as a young child, our current cultural climate has made it difficult for my students to disconnect the bigoted messages they heard at school and in the news from the problematic and/or lack of representation they found at the museum. Why was the Latinx art hung in the stairwell and not in the galleries? Why were all the portraits of white people? Why is this olla in a museum now? It was impossible to shake the negative ramifications of an institution that has been complicit in the exclusion and marginalization of cultures around the world.
In my most recent position as an educator at the Snite Museum of Art at the University of Notre Dame, I felt urged to use our collection to address the bullying, harassment, and racism our youth face. Responding to the criticisms of our visiting students, and after reaching out to organizations serving Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender or Queer (LGBTQ), people of color (POC), and immigrant communities, I spent the past two years developing a museum and community-based program centered on racial justice for middle school students. The Racial Justice Institute is the resulting partnership between the Snite Museum of Art, Indiana University South Bend Civil Rights Heritage Center (CRHC), Jefferson Intermediate Traditional School, and local community organizations in South Bend, Indiana — all organizations dedicated to addressing the challenges our youth face today. What began as an internal attempt to change the way the Snite Museum used our collections and focused our programs, transformed into a commitment to build a network of solidarity to empower our youth that continues well beyond the museum walls.
The Racial Justice Institute
In 2017, we launched the inaugural Racial Justice Institute as a daylong immersive experience for 8th grade students at Jefferson Intermediate. Carmen Williams, the principal at Jefferson Intermediate; George Garner, curator at the Civil Rights Heritage Center (CRHC); and Sarah Martin from the Snite Museum of Art, originally joined me in developing a program that used artwork and artifacts to empower youth, inspire empathy, and develop a critical understanding of local and historical racial injustice. Adopting the critical multiculturalist approach as defined by art education scholar Joni Boyd Acuff, we deliberately chose to use the Racial Justice Institute to “critiqu[e] the complex power structures that create oppressive systems of marginalization” through the lens of artworks, many of which had been relegated to the vaults of the museum (Acuff, 2015, p. 32). During the Institute, White, Black, and Latinx students spent their morning at the Snite Museum exploring how artists have responded to racial injustice and the afternoon at the CRHC to learn about the history of marginalized groups and activism in South Bend. Guided by these conversations, our students connected these approaches to their present-day issues and created artworks describing how they pledged to challenge racist structures. Selecting to host the inaugural program on Martin Luther King Day, we were able to root the program firmly in the legacy of the civil rights movement, and benefited from the fact that students had the entire day off from school.
During the Snite Museum portion, we focused on four artworks by artists representing marginalized groups and allies: The Mayan Prince by David Siqueiros, White Rit by Vanessa German, Survival: Humor by Jaune Quick-to-See Smith, and La Frontera by Sue Coe. Our exploration of these artworks was not simply an attempt to celebrate diversity, but a process of examining the distinct way each artist challenged oppressive structures through their artwork. We were inspired by the “Three Visions for Achieving Equal Rights” lesson plan from Facing History and Ourselves that compares the strategies of Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr., Malcolm X, and Kwame Toure(1) to provide models of organizing for change that students can adopt (Facing History, n.d.). Our conversations centered on how the individual artist chose to expose injustices, empower the oppressed, survive systemic injustice, or heal from racial oppression. Using the four actions that these artworks reveal — expose, empower, survive, and heal — we discussed the many actions we, as members of society, as artists, and as students can take to break down oppressive systems. We compared these actions to strategies like striking, sit-ins, and marches, and stressed that in order to dismantle oppressive systems, we need multiple methods of addressing the many ways structural racism harms society. Protests can change single laws, but we need to change the entire cultural system in order to effect structural change.
To enable students to understand why and how these artists challenged racism, we led activities to provide richer context for their anti-racist work.(2)
- Sarah and I began the day with an exercise modeled after Circles of My Multicultural Self, (Gorski, 2018) that uses stereotypes to explore the mechanics of racism in society. We discussed how stereotypes begin, the damage they create (as one student stated, “We eventually believe the stereotypes are true about ourselves”), how structural oppression fuels these stereotypes, and how racial justice must address this cultural and emotional harm. This activity helped students understand the importance of empowering our communities and healing from systemic oppression.
- After the first artwork discussions, we included a privilege walk to visualize how structural racism and privilege affect each of us differently. This helped students understand that survival from racial oppression had different meanings for everyone, and revealed they could use their privilege to expose injustices.
- We wanted to ensure that our students understood that while we could be the victims of oppression, we could also be responsible for the oppression of others. The self-reflection guide on positionality by Wendy Ng, Syrus Marcus Ware, and Alyssa Greenberg (2017) provided an example on how to guide this conversation, which we added to the program during the second year.
Since our students came well versed in the work of restorative justice, a program implemented at Jefferson Intermediate School, they carefully navigated the conversations that could otherwise convince them that they were either victims or perpetrators exclusively. Still, we prepared for potentially difficult conversations by laying out ground rules, modeled after the Fostering Civil Discourse guide (Facing History, n.d.) and Brian Arao and Kristi Clemens’ work “From Safe Spaces to Brave Spaces” (2013). We also provided journals for every student, giving them time for silent and group reflection, and implemented visual cues adopted from the Let’s Talk guide from Teaching Tolerance (n.d.).
Following lunch, we relocated to the Civil Rights Heritage Center (CRHC) — a once-segregated public swimming pool that, thanks to the work of faculty and students at Indiana University South Bend, now serves as a museum and community resource to document the history and advance the rights of marginalized communities. Today, the CRHC uses the story of the pool’s segregated past as a launching pad to address present-day issues of social justice. That the Center came into existence in large part thanks to the work of dedicated students, served as a model for our students to see the possible long-lasting impact students can make.
This tangible proof of student action provided inspiration for the artwork that followed. Students selected quotes by activists, writers, and historical and present-day leaders who have organized with the intention to expose, empower, survive, and heal. Then, they created an artwork that declared how they wished to fight the racial injustice they witnessed and experienced. Our students delivered poignant responses and created powerful artworks that proclaimed their missions.
The focus on accessible agency through the “expose, empower, survive, heal” model allowed students to leave with a concrete idea and framework for how they wished to enact change. In the surveys we collected before the Institute, students gave generic responses to what racial justice meant to them, like “equality among races,” “giving freedom to others,” and “everyone is treated equally under the law.” At the end of the program, students were able to connect racial justice and their own lives and make commitments to take action. When writing about their artwork, one student wrote, “I choose to expose because…I want to become living proof that if you take action about something you’re passionate about, change will happen over time,” while another wrote, “I choose to expose. I feel like every action has a consequence or a reward. I feel like we need to notice the flaws and imperfections and talk about them to be able to fix them.” For other students, the artwork allowed them to address deeply personal matters: “I choose to survive because not all people wake up thinking today could be their last day with their family. They don’t have to worry that they’ll get deported.”
To ensure our students had the sustainable support to carry out their missions, we partnered with local advocacy groups like The LGBTQ Center, 100 Black Men, La Casa de Amistad, and Dreamers in Action as well as youth empowerment clubs like the Brothers and LOVE groups from John Adams High School. These organizations presented on their services and missions to orient our students to the opportunities they had right now to get involved, take action, and find support. It provided a path for them to follow based on their individual experiences, and it created a community of solidarity to ensure the students follow through on their commitments.
This is perhaps the most valuable part of the program. While the activities throughout the day fostered rich conversations and resulted in thoughtful artwork, we needed to model ways to carry out the work we discussed once the program ended. Part of creating transformative programs requires acknowledging the limitations of your institution. At the Snite Museum, we could offer a full-day program immersed in our collection, but we couldn’t provide the rich, active history of the Civil Rights Heritage Center or the community resources to continuously support our students after they left. We were able to create this program because we had cultivated relationships between organizations in the past, and because we listened to and acknowledged the needs of our community.
Lessons Learned
We began the Racial Justice Institute with a few incorrect assumptions. We thought families would be encouraged to participate if we held the program on Martin Luther King Day, since the Institute would provide out-of-school care. This was not the case. During our inaugural year, we only had 5 participants. After assessing the program for the second year, our Principal decided that holding the Institute on a school day (and providing an excused absence for the participants) would help to increase participation. During the second year, our numbers increased to 24.
Another change we implemented was visiting the school during the lunch hour to extend a personal invitation to the students. We met with all the 8th-grade teachers to encourage students to apply. Later, we held a pizza lunch with the 35 interested students to give them a preview and conduct a short survey of their specific interests and issues that affect their lives. While they were all interested in racial justice, they brought up other issues that demonstrated the intersectionality and uniqueness of their individual lived experiences: they mentioned LGBTQ rights, bullying, language barriers, and immigration policies. We were grateful to have a supportive community that joined us at the Institute to support our students in each of their individual needs.
Finally, we originally assumed that our students would find the idea of having their artwork displayed in a museum exhibition thrilling and exciting. They did not. For many, their artwork was incredibly personal. For others, finding transportation to the evening reception was difficult. Both years, we only had 1 or 2 families show up for the reception. Since we decided to host the community organizations during our reception the second year, we had a room full of community presenters with few reception attendees. Yet this “failure” turned into a new opportunity. Once we realized that the connections with advocacy groups could persist beyond the one-day program, we organized lunches for them with our students to provide student support long after the end of the Institute.
The Racial Justice Institute isn’t perfect, and it hasn’t been an easy route. It would have been tempting to see the first year as a failure. In fact, many within our institution did see it as a failure. What we learned, however, is that you don’t need full institutional support to carry out important work. We carried on, listened to our community partners, and improved the Institute in the second year.
Collaborating for Sustainable Change
Now going into its third year, the Racial Justice Institute shows great potential for continued growth and improvement. The Assistant Superintendent and other administrators in the district are eager to see this program replicated with other schools, and while I no longer work at the Snite Museum, they have chosen to contract me to continue this work. I will gladly continue to work with these partners, but am relieved that the success of the program rests on more than a single person and is supported by our community network.
I am thankful that we chose to redefine what success means for us: that we chose to trust and depend on our community, and that we were able to create a sustainable network of support for our students. This Institute could only happen because it bridged the various communities that make up our city. It was formed as a partnership between an academic art museum and a local history center; it united institutions of higher education with local public schools; and it provided middle school students with sustainable mentorship and accountability through community organizations. Museums can inspire students to take action and fight for social change, but only through community collaboration can they model the sustainable solidarity necessary to realize those dreams.
Dalila Huerta
Dalila Huerta is a cultural educator dedicated to promoting museum inclusion and social justice through youth programming. In addition to organizing the Racial Justice Institute, she works for the Latinx youth and community center, La Casa de Amistad, and serves on the NAEA Equity, Diversity, and Inclusion Task Force. @dhuerta1848
Footnotes
(1) Facing History and Ourselves lists Kwame Toure by his birth name, Stokely Carmichael.
(2) We were inspired by the “Pedagogy for Change” implemented after the Baltimore Uprisings to develop a socially responsive artistic teaching pedagogy (Lopez, Pereira, and Rao, 2017). I originally encountered Lopez, Pereira, and Rao’s work during the 2016 NAEA Conference, in their presentation, “Baltimore Uprising: Engaging With Race, Privilege, and Equity.”
References
Acuff, J.B. (2015). Failure to operationalize: Investing in critical multicultural art education. Journal of Social Theory in Art Education, 35(1), 30–43.
Arao, B., & Clemens K. (2013). From safe spaces to brave spaces: A new way to frame dialogue around diversity and social justice. In Landreman, L. E. (Ed.), The Art of Effective Facilitation: Reflections From Social Justice Educators. Sterling, VA: Stylus Publishing, LLC.
Facing History and Ourselves. (n.d.). Fostering civil discourse: A guide for classroom conversations.” . Retrieved from https://www.facinghistory.org/sites/default/files/publications/Fostering_Civil_Discourse.pdf
Facing History and Ourselves. (n.d.). Three visions for achieving equal rights. Retrieved from https://www.facinghistory.org/resource-library/memphis-1968/three-visions-achieving-equal-rights
Gorski, P.C. (2018). Circles of my multicultural self. Retreived from http://www.edchange.org/multicultural/activities/circlesofself.html
Teaching Tolerance. (n.d.). Let’s talk: Discussing race, racism, and other difficult topics with students. Retreived from http://www.tolerance.org/sites/default/files/general/TT%20Difficult%20Conversations%20web.pdf
Lopez, V., Pereira, A., & Rao, S. S. (2017). Baltimore uprising: Empowering pedagogy for change. Art Education, 70(4), 33–37. https://www.mica.edu/Documents/FacultyBiographies/BaltimoreUprisingEmpoweringPedagogyForChange.pdf
Ng, W., Ware, S.M., & Greenberg, A. (2017). Activating diversity and inclusion: A blueprint for museum educators as allies and change makers. Journal of Museum Education, 42(2), 142–154.
