Lessons learned from the Urban Archaeology project by Heather Read

The next time I see him is a week after the reception for Urban Archaeology at the opening for the Youth Arts Collective’s show. He is dressed in a black jacket with a rose in his lapel. I ask how the show looks; he beams at me, answering without words. He tells me the memory boxes are on display too and that they look great. As we head upstairs, he stops and thanks me for my project. He says meeting the other participants at the reception was really moving, and gave him some much-needed perspective on his life. “It made me shut the hell up,” he says. I laugh.
He confesses that he spent a long time talking to a woman from the Independent Living Resource Centre. She showed him pictures of her family, which he describes as one of the most beautiful he has ever seen, rendered moreso by her openness to him about her struggles to get pregnant. He thanks me again for the chance to make a connection like that with another person. He says such chances are rare in life.

***

Transformation can become one of the criteria by which we evaluate the success of our work. It may be a modest transformation; not every project can change the world, or need attempt to. But when planning programs, we can ask ourselves, “What will change, or be changed, by this project?” If the status quo remains after we have produced a concert or exhibition or documented a tradition, to what extent have we really succeeded? (Westerman 122).

***

The Urban Archaeology project was a community based art display at The Rooms Provincial Art Gallery in St. John’s, Newfoundland from June 2006 to January 2007. For the project, participants created memory boxes representing their personal stories and responses to the word home; the 39 boxes were then displayed at the art gallery, and a closing reception was held in January to celebrate the work. Participants were drawn from four community organizations in St. John’s: the Multicultural Women’s Organization of Newfoundland and Labrador (MWONL), the Brother T.I. Murphy Youth Arts Collective (BTIM), the Refugee and Immigrant Advisory Council (RIAC) and the Independent Living Resource Centre (ILRC). I chose these groups to bring diverse voices into the gallery, and to draw attention to the diversity of the city and the province.
The ILRC is a community group that exists to help “enable persons with disabilities to make informed choices about their lives” (ILRC). They offer a wide variety of programs and services to clients, from recreational experiences like dinner club, to assistance in obtaining aides like wheelchairs. MWONL works to promote “positive relationship[s] among the ethnic minorities and the local population” in St. John’s (MWONL). They also provide support to women of diverse backgrounds through social gatherings, and assisting immigrants with community integration (Kutty). The Brother T. I. Murphy Centre provides “individuals with opportunities for growth through the integration of creative learning experiences” (Murphy). They offer programs such as: assisting adults with high school completion, promoting positive life skills, and developing and pursuing employment opportunities. One of their most unique initiatives is the Youth Arts Collective, which gives artistic young people facing life challenges assistance in moving out into the world. According to their mission statement, RIAC’s goals are: “to advise and assist in the adjustment, integration and development of refugees and immigrants in Newfoundland and Labrador…” (RIAC). They accomplish this through a number of programs, such as language classes and translation services, as well as assistance in finding employment, and in advocating cases to governments. They also provide recreational services, such as a Friday adventure group, where participants explore the city by shopping or visiting museums.
Those are the facts. But like most artistic endeavours, the whole is greater than the sum of its parts; the Urban Archaeology project was much more special than the facts make it seem. What made it special? Some background about the province of Newfoundland and Labrador will make that clear.
Diversity is not a word often associated with this province, in a cultural sense at least. Case in point: in 2006, the Government of Newfoundland and Labrador unveiled a new provincial logo, replacing an image of the provincial flag with an image of the provincial flower, the pitcher plant. Apparently, the pitcher plant, “[a] plant so odd, yet so comfortable in its own skin…” is the symbol that best “reflects who we are and what we stand for” (Gov of Newfoundland and Labrador). The symbol apparently unites all people in the province: “One symbol, one voice” (Gov of Newfoundland and Labrador).
There is obviously not “one voice” among all people living in Newfoundland and Labrador; there is not “one voice” among all people living in any geographic area. In the context of Newfoundland, though, this is a fairly common idea. Newfoundland author Michael Crummey once wrote that the province has long been considered unique in Canada (31). Academic researchers agree, noting that “Newfoundland” is a specific regional identity that has been studied as separate from “‘the Maritimes…the North, the Northwest Territories, Ontario, the Prairies, Quebec and the West” (Rummens 12). Although there are unique regional identities across Canada, the sense of identity is strong in Newfoundland, and tends to be very Irish and English centred (Mannion 5; Story 24-27). The predominant histories of Newfoundland are about settlers from those countries and their work in the fishery.
However, there are many other people who have lived in this place whose lives and stories are just as important as those of the English and the Irish. But their stories are harder to find at museums or in books about the province. Historically, there were Norse explorers here, and sailors from Portugal, Spain, and the Caribbean (Mannion 5-11). And, before the arrival of people from other places, there were First Nations people living in Newfoundland and Labrador: the Beothuk (a group rendered largely extinct during the 18th century), the Innu, the Inuit and the Migmaw. And, in contemporary times, there are significant cultural groups in St. John’s, like the Jewish and Chinese communities. And the mention of these groups only covers cultural diversity; there is great diversity in the province with respect to culture, but also age, occupation, gender, religion and physical ability. But when most people talk and think about Newfoundland and Labrador, they rarely consider these stories.
That is why Urban Archaeology was important, because it considered other stories. I facilitated this project through The Rooms, a relatively new cultural institution in St. John’s. It is a unique space that opened in the summer of 2005 and houses the Provincial Museum, Art Gallery and Archives. Prior to the building’s opening, these three institutions were separate spaces in St. John’s; together they occupy a prominent place in the city, both physically and culturally. All three exist to tell stories about the province, and most of the stories they tell are about people of that English and Irish fishing heritage. I wanted to change that, to give some people who are not often heard the chance to share their stories on the biggest stage in town. Because if you are unable to share your stories, that is often a sign that there are other things you are not able to do.
It is a simple idea, the idea of sharing stories, but it is a powerful one. To be honest, when I began Urban Archaeology, I did not realize the effect the sharing would have. The process of participating in Urban Archaeology and of being celebrated in The Rooms strongly affected the participants; the best way I can explain that is by telling a few stories about those who were telling the stories.
A young woman from BTIM hugged me warmly when she arrived at the Urban Archaeology reception, declaring that everything looked “just beautiful!” Later, she squeezed me again and said that she felt emotional, seeing all the boxes together. Seeing these people, and these stories, and learning a little about what they have gone through affected her more than she thought it would. She said she felt honoured to be included. She thanked me, her eyes welling up with tears.
Two men from the ILRC approached me midway through the reception. One was pushing the other in a wheelchair. The man in the wheelchair was holding a small green birdhouse on his lap, which he made for me. He exclaimed, “Thank you Heather!” and thrust the gift into my hands. Then, the man who was pushing stepped forward, and said that they both wanted to thank me for the chance to participate in the project. He said that making the box gave them the chance to talk about things they otherwise would not have talked about. And he said more importantly, the project gave them the opportunity to go out into the community and experience things they would not have felt safe doing otherwise. He thanked me again, and then disappeared into the crowd.
Several participants were unable to attend the reception. One in particular, affiliated with RIAC, was unable to come because she was deported shortly before Christmas. I remember her well; she was enthusiastic about painting her memory box. She said it made her feel like a child. She said it was important to give people opportunities to express themselves, because it was good for the soul. When she left the gallery, she said she felt lighter. Her life, she told me, as it was then, did not allow for moments of creativity and reflection.
The generation of art and the creation of stories can be transformative (Westerman 118). The effect of creation is powerful as William Westerman describes:
The feeling that creative people experience when participating in a[n]…artistic activity is seldom well articulated, because it is fundamentally non-verbal. Usually the words break down [when they talk about it] and people only speak in general terms: “It does something for me,” “I feel something,” “I feel great”… [T]hat creative process not only makes us feel more human, it connects us socially…(118).

In contemporary Western cultures , however, , creative action “is usually treated as merely a recreational activity rather than something of primary importance” (Westerman 118). This is unfortunate, especially since, “art [is]…a means through which children, youth and adults communicate their values and beliefs to one another” (Blandy and Hoffman 25). Moreover, the arts are an important component of community development; they “encourage personal development as well as social cohesion” (Carey and Sutton 124). Community based art projects serve both to provide “a means for people to express their relationship with their social and physical environment,” as well as “encourage[ing diverse] groups to work together” (Carey and Sutton 124). Encouragement of individual self worth, and promotion of group action are cornerstones of a healthy community.

***

Sometimes the shortest proverbs contain the deepest meanings and the simplest songs stick in your heart. The same is true for artwork. It was a long time before I noticed the outside of one of the boxes. In two small graphics, the maker had (unintentionally?) captured what I had hoped would be the spirit of Urban Archaeology. On one side of his box is a stereo, with the word ‘Listen’ underneath it. On the other is a character holding a microphone; underneath are the words ‘Be Heard.’
Listen. Be Heard.
I never asked him why he painted those images and those words. What I do know is that for me, they are a distillation of Urban Archaeology. I listened, and I tried to give a platform, however small it might have been, to people who deserve to be heard as loudly as anyone else in this city. And whether the project created any long-term change or not, the fact that at least one person caught onto, or at least agreed with my message is enough to give me hope for the future of diversity in the city.

***

The story revolution, the one that is transforming our world this very minute, is fuelled by a democratic counter-assertion: that everyone contributes to culture; that the knowledge sorely needed by future generations must come from every ethnic group and region and social class, from men and women of infinite variety; and that everyone has something to teach and something to learn (Goldbard).

About the author

Heather Read is a graduate student in the Department of Folklore at Memorial University. She also sells paintings in her spare time, and bakes muffins of varying delicious varieties.

References

Blandy, Douglas and Hoffman, Elizabeth. “Toward an art education of place.” Studies in Art Education 35.1 (1993): 22-33.
Carey, Phil, and Sutton, Sue. “Community development through participatory arts: Lessons learned from a community arts and regeneration project in South Liverpool.” Community Development Journal 39.2 (2004): 123-134.
Goldbard, Arlene. “The Story Revolution: How Telling Our Stories Transforms the World.” Community Arts Network: Reading Room. 2005. 20 February 2007.
Government of Newfoundland and Labrador. “Brand Signature.” Government of Newfoundland and Labrador website. 2006. 20 February 2007.
Independent Living Resource Centre. ILRC website. n.d. 15 February 2007.
Mannion, John J. “Introduction.” In John Mannion’s The Peopling of Newfoundland: Essays in Historical Geography. St. John’s, NL: ISER, Memorial University, 1977. 1-14.
The Murphy Centre. “Programs.” The Murphy Centre: A living investment. 2003. 21 February 2007.
MWONL. Multicultural Women’s Organization of Newfoundland and Labrador. St. John’s: MWONL, 2006.
RIAC. “About us: Vision mission value.” RIAC: Refugee and Immigrant Advisory Council. 26 June 2006. 21 February 2007.
Rummens, Joanna. “An Interdisciplinary Overview of Canadian Research on Identity.” Metropolis. 2001. 20 February 2007. .
Story, George M. “Newfoundland: Fishermen, Hunters, Planters and Merchants.” In Herbert Halpert’s Christmas Mummering in Newfoundland. Toronto, ON: University of Toronto Press, 1969. 7-33.
Westerman, William. “Wild grasses and new arks: Transformative potential in applied and public folklore.” Journal of American Folklore 119.471 (2006):111-128.

Nayani Thiyagarajah

Are the billboards on our city streets bugging you?

Well then you can do something to help the Beautiful City Billboard Fee campaign.

Take a look around our city. Whether you’re in the downtown core or driving along a highway, billboards are somewhere to be seen. At one stop on the road you may see an ad for backpacks. Next you might come across a large-scale, full-body photo of some beautiful man or woman endorsing some expensive line of clothing. You may even see a big billboard-size version of Jennifer Aniston’s face telling you to watch Friends, weekdays at 6 p.m.

The Beautiful City Billboard Fee (BCBF) is one which would see six million dollars collected yearly from a fee on billboards in Toronto. All third-party outdoor advertisers would be required to pay an annual fee, from which all profits would be put into public art, prioritizing on art produced by artists from marginalized communities and youth artists.

Twenty-seven various organizations make up the BCBF Alliance, including the Grassroots Youth Collaborative, Lotus Leaf Communications, The Gladstone Hotel, the Toronto Youth Cabinet and the Youth Action Network. The Toronto Arts Council, a member of the Alliance, will be in charge of distributing profits if fee is approved.

Susan Wright, the Director of Operations at the Toronto Arts Council, believes that the campaign will see success.

“There seems to be a fair bit of support. I’m pretty confident that some aspect of it will happen,” she says.

However, she adds, “whether the whole thing will unfold as we would like, well these things don’t turn around and happen immediately.”

Aside from the central goal of putting more funding into public art, the BCBF Alliance has a few other main objectives for the campaign. This includes increasing funding for both watching and regulating billboard advertisers, and providing work for artists.

One key objective is to “help move Toronto towards a pedestrian focused aesthetic.” Ostrom, founder and co-director of the BCBF campaign, says that this means the “BCBF will assist moving Toronto away from a car based aesthetic (billboards) towards a more pedestrian feel.”

“If you look at billboards, they’re basically designed for major impact, for people driving by,” he adds. “But the mass majority of public art requires people to get out of their cars, explore their neighbourhoods.”

In fact, when was the last time you took a casual walk along the streets of a busy city? And this doesn’t include rushing off to work or running to your next class or taking a trip to your favourite store along Yonge Street. Rather, when’s the last time you took regular old-fashion walk around the block or a walk to a park? Maybe a walk to observe and admire some architecture, or a walk to check out some cool street art?

“Access to visual communication in public spaces needs to reflect the creativity and multiplicity that exists in Toronto,” says Ostrom. “Or else we face alienating the city’s inhabitants from their own surroundings.”

However, despite the support and enthusiasm shown towards the campaign, there are some who do are against the idea of placing a tax on advertising billboards.

Dave Meslin, a public space activist, disagrees with the idea of a billboard fee and maintains that it is too early to employ a tax. He argues that considering Toronto’s current fiscal state, it would be wiser to boost the number of billboards in order to bring in more money. Instead of immediately introducing such a fee, Meslin suggests employing a sequence of billboard-control measures.

“We have a city council desperate for new sources of revenue, and councillors have shown quite clearly that they consider our visual environment a natural resource that can be sold to private companies,” says Meslin.
He adds that the revenue gathered from the proposed billboard tax “would increase with every approval for a new sign but would decrease whenever the city enforced its own bylaws and removed an illegal sign.
“The formula would be a nightmare scenario for public space advocates.”
Still, Ostrom argues that public art will also help to support other significant issues different from initial objectives.

“When produced locally, public art contributes to ‘place making’ and can serve to reinforce multiculturalism.”

This, he says, is the exactly opposite of Billboard advertising in many ways including “motive, medium and methods.”

As well, Ostrom argues that public art and local projects work to develop public ownership.

“The BCBF works as a remedial act, enabling and spurring people to further add to their communities in a positive format,” he says.

Asked whether he believes the BCBF campaign will be a success, Ostrom is positive.

“What gives me the greatest optimism is that even though the campaign been going on a long time, it’s [enthusiasm] still there.”

According to a 2005 Pollar survey for the BCBF Alliance, 66% of Torontonians support the fee and 60% feel that fewer billboards would make the city more beautiful.

“Politics is a long process and there are good reasons why democracy takes long,” says Ostrom. “But we’re farther than we’ve ever been before.”

And Ostrom has fair reason to believe so.

Following a series of public consultations and an increase in community support, a June 11 City of Toronto Staff Report showed the recommendation for a report on the BCBF to the Executive Committee by Toronto’s Deputy City Manager Richard Butts. On June 25, the Committee passed this recommendation. A new staff report is expected to come out in October or November.

Despite the support however, Wright maintains that even if the fee is approved, there will still be monetary issues to deal with.

“Any time money is involved, there are all kinds of reasons things wouldn’t happen,” she says. “There will be city departments, sign regulators, bill advertisers all trying to determine where the money might go.”

“There are huge potential changes for what happens with the money,” she adds.

Ultimately, Ostrom still believes that the campaign will create positive change.

“It’s a small portion of a larger shift in society, and I think public art could play a large role in that shift.”

If you would like to sign the BCBF petition, you can visit http://www.them.ca/bcbfpetition.asp.

For more information on the campaign and how to get involved, you can contact Devon Ostrom at devon@them.ca

(Gunpoint) Imagine yourself waking up one day and a gun being pointed straight at your face. What would you do? Do you wonder if it’s your time to leave this earth? Do you think of whom are you going to leave behind? Are you saying to yourself, “I’m a gonna die now?”

Well for me, the feeling that I went through was being tipped over. I couldn’t really understand why this was happening to me. I was a 16-year-old kid who had a supportive family and was well focused in school. The only drawback I had was that I had a problem dealing with friends. I didn’t understand why one day your friends could be so close to you and then the next day they can pull a gun in your face. Does that make sense to you?

After this moment in my life I started to question a lot of things. Is my life worth living if people value it in that way? Growing up I was a helpful soul that went out of his way to do anything for others. Anything. So I asked myself, “Why are these people trying to take me out?” I felt this anger not just with this situation but people trying to do anything to get in my head and suppress my fire. I guess I came out as some little kid with a big dream, and that people were afraid of my light.

After this situation happened, my mental state was on the edge. I thought a lot and I was at the point where my mind took over my body. I felt alone, very alone, and this where trouble started to hit. My support system didn’t exist. No one understood me. It’s like being in the dark with a beaten face shining on others because they can’t take the light. They fear it. Even at my darkest moments I still glowed as an individual. (beaten face) But it took a toll on me. I started going into a deep depression and going in and out of the hospital. Suicidal. Loss of Hope. Scar in my brain. Bleeding. Spit On. Punched. Stabbed and Turned! Penetrating straight to my heart. (deception) All I thought about was leaving this earth. I couldn’t deal with it anymore. I wanted out. I tried many times but life didn’t want to escape me.

After going through this turbulent time, it all feels like such a bad dream. Pumping anger into my blood stream giving me gas to fuel my determination. I was looking to prove these people wrong, but the thought of me lying in that hospital bed or in the emergency room holding onto life by a piece of string almost letting go, with flashes of light shining in my face, with my eyes closed, people yelling at the top of their lungs, while shocking my chest to restart my heart holds me back.

It just seems that I could of left at that single moment. I felt my heart was giving way. Beating slower, slower and slower. But for some odd reason I was never meant to go. Several attempts but never aloud. At 18, I could finally say I made a big step to change. I had to look around me and envision a better life. A Positive one. After having support eventually got out of the abyss and started crawling back to the light. I was determined and I chose to never look back. (determination) (elevate) I had to do something about it. I had a calling, and a voice inside me said, “you have to tell your story and express yourself” and from that day I felt laying in this hospital bed I got up and started painting. Even though I got accepted to University of Toronto for Math I told my parents I’m going to art school. That was a big issue for them. But my heart was telling me to go forth and listen to it. (visual pitbull) So I did and my parents supported me. I eventually made my way through Sheridan College, taking Art Fundamentals and then Illustration. Those four years of my life were tests to show me everything I learned in my previous years. Up and Down. Smiles and Frowns. Tears of Sadness and Tears of Joy. (inflate/deflate)

After school my father passed away in my last year of school. It was his dream to see me graduate. But I finished with High Honours gaining lots of friends but mainly the respect of others. Just from speaking my story. My father was such an inspiration to my life. Throughout my life he stuck by me through thick and thin and I know he is watching me today. (fabric of life) His stories live through me and feel I have to express these thoughts and experiences to the world. After finishing Sheridan, I thought I was going to be some rock star artist right off the bat but I became a barber having only 20 bucks in my pocket. Even in this time I realized how meaningful is was to me. It was difficult but there was a message involved.

After - months working in the shop, I made my way to the north of Canada. Canada’s Arctic Nunavut. The land of the beautiful culture of Inuit. It had Beautiful skies, beautiful land, fresh air and kind and humble people. I couldn’t ask for more. I have been blessed. I obtained a job as a graphic designer at one of the Graphic design companies in the north. By being in the north and understanding their culture I built a close relationship to the Inuit people. They became my best friends, my people and my family who taught me how to live in such a way that was simple and full of compassion. (aakuluk) They acknowledged you by simple raise of eyebrows and a glowing smile. It was like my second home (home) or as I could say it “my home - where my hearts at.” By being so close to the north and feeling a part of the community, I observed something that brought me back to my childhood and teenage years. The struggle with suicide.

In Nunavut they have one of the highest suicide rates in the world. And I felt this was my opportunity to share my story. I see kids walking around, hanging out and having nothing to do. I saw myself in all these youth and my heart was bursting and telling me I have to do something about it. I got involved in many ways. I coached basketball at the highschool, I worked as Daycamp leader in the summer, and I worked at the Children’s Group home and I ran breakdance classes at the recreation centre. All these things that I have been doing on my spare time in the north out my free will got me an opportunity to work with Blueprint for Life and the Government of Nunavut with a outreach project for youth called “Connecting Nunavut Youth through Hip Hop.” From this 1 week long workshop that happened in February 2006, I had a chance to be involved and mentor the youth. On day 3 of the project I shared my story with youth and how I’m progressing to day. They were very inspired and touched. From this moment, I saw tears run down their faces and it showed me they connected so well to my story. From there I started speaking at more conferences, performing with the youth in various places and creating art workshops. (alianait 2007)

I’m trying to do anything I can to inspire and eradicate suicide. I have found my mission and now its up to me to carry it out by helping others and at the same time I’m helping myself. Even though at times my past tries to haunt me but I’m grateful to have special people in life to remind to keep going forward. I’m not alone anymore and see others on the same path. But most of all, I run into random kids I don’t know in different communities in Nunavut, acknowledging me, and saying “ HI BLAZE!”. That’s special.

That’s love.

-“A true revolution starts out with great feelings of love”-

Jonathan Cruz is now taking his MFA at the Academy of Art in San Francisco. He is still doing work with Nunavut by working with the government and the youth. Currently, he is working with Sheila Watt-Cloutier – runner up for the Nobel Peace Prize and Inuit Activist for Global warming and Human rights. He plans one day to live in the north again but for now he is on a mission inspire youth , Inuit youth especially, by doing something he loves - Painting. (spirit helper)

www.cruzcontrol.ca

Her

Walking down Main Street,
wrapped up like I was in a cocoon,
She walked by me, and it was if I could
feel her presence swoop in on me.

Somewhere in the back of my mind,
I wondered if she could tune into me
when suddenly she stood in my path
and looked up at me smiling,
her eyes unwavering in question.

Blushing, my pulse quickened, and my breathing got shallower.
She may have just caught me adrift in a ton of moments
and memories that had yet to happen
Cos she came upon me in a happenstance,
and I just happened to be happy.

Connection like electricity
And swirls of purple and pink candy dreams.
I’m thinking of kisses so sweet
as I am wishing on stars
Cos she just maybe my brown-eyed fantasy.

I wanna bare me to you cos I have got nothing to lose
And I want you to know baby that neither do you.
I wanna collect the love we make, wrap it an a ball of yarn
And save it for rainy days,
Days when the whole world seems to wanna bring us down
and unwind it around us like we were each other’s fortresses
Cos the wind blows up my skirt and I can’t help but smile.
Reflexes like a cat, and I said no, thank you sir!
Her fingers interlocked in mine.
Merry we be and merry we shall remain
Cos I swore to the goddess that oppression would never become me.
Our lips locked and yeah, we could paint this town red.
Cos she wants to be my queen, and I wanna be her muse
Cos bjork has got nothing on us for this is pagan poetry.