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Imagining the Fort:

A Personal/Cultural Aesthetics Story

           

The winter of 2014 was a brutal one for Cincinnati.  Below zero degree weather continued for two weeks straight, forcing my roommates and I to remain indoors, with water running in fear of freezing pipes.  After a few days of cancelled classes, and being stuck inside, we quickly developed severe cases of cabin fever.  As a result of our monotonous and stale environment we felt trapped in, my roommate and I decided to stray away from our homework to see if we could build an indoor fort. We opened doors from built-in cabinets and draped over sheets and blankets, creating a roof and walls.  We padded the floor with foam, sleeping bags, and beanbags.  We draped lines of lights, as well as added a desk lamp, office supplies, chalkboard, and television. Finally, we named our fort “The Imagination Station.”  

 

 

 

References.

 Pérez Miles, A. (2012). “Silencing” the Powerful and “Giving” Voice to the Disempowered: Ethical Considerations of a Dialogic Pedagogy. The Journal of Social Theory in Art Education (32) (K. Staikidis, Ed.). 112-127. (Zander, 2004) (Rufo, 2012)

Rufo, D. (2012, May). Building Forts and Drawing on Walls: Fostering Student-Initiated Creativity Inside and Outside the Elementary Classroom. Art Education , 40-47.

Zander, M. J. (2004). Becoming Dialogical: Creating a Place for Dialogue in Art education. Art Education , 57 (3), 48-53.

Personal Aesthetics.

We felt safe in our small and cozy fort from the severe outdoor elements, as well as the repetitiveness of our house interior.  Our fort became an inviting place for deep conversations, a focused space for homework, and a warm place to watch hours of Netflix.  My roommate and I prided ourselves in the creation of The Imagination Station.  We titled our fort this because, to us, the aesthetics of the space created an atmosphere conducive for unlimited imagination.  The softness of the blankets and beanbags made us feel comfortable.  The enclosure from the blanketed roof and walls made us feel as though we could escape the bitterness of the outside world.  In the fort, time did not matter; stress wore away.  The small scale of the space put us on our hands and knees and reminded us of our childhood.  Together, the nostalgia from cancelled school days, and the giddiness of the building process, made us feel like children in the space.

 

In this particular case, I would say my aesthetic meaning has changed little since I was a child.  I could imagine this fort looking very similar to what I might have built as a child.  However, the only forts I built as a child were outdoors, impossible in this brutal winter.  Past and present forts of mine have been built from gathered and found materials, been at a small scale to humans, closed off the outside world.  As a child, the narrow two-story corridor on the side of our barn was my fort.  Although I do not believe, in this case, my personal aesthetics have changed since I was a child; I value the aesthetics of small and cozy spaces much more now.  Daily life as a college student is demanding; I have tried to live each day as efficiently as I can.  The fort became a space to stop and enjoy each other’s company, to reflect upon self, and let your mind trail off to endless thoughts.  I value this aesthetic much more now, because of my increasingly demanding lifestyle.

 

Personal Aesthetic Differences.

To me it’s not how beautiful a fort is, but rather, the feeling it evokes when you crawl inside.  Although my roommate and I loved to spend countless hours in our fort, our third roommate never felt a need to be in the fort.  I am unsure of her exact reasons, but maybe she felt claustrophobic from the engulfing blankets on all sides, maybe she felt she had already established work and rest areas in her life, maybe the materials felt too un-orderly to carry out the fort’s function, or maybe she did not feel a sense of ownership and invitation from lack of participation in the construction process.  All of these “maybes” are examples on how someone’s personal sense of aesthetics can differ from individual to individual.

Forts in the Classroom

 

Although most art educators strive to create open dialogue and questions within their student culture, teachers typically dominate the talk in the classroom (Zander, 2004).  This leaves me to question, not only the domination of the instructor, but also the domination and intimidation of the classroom environment.  Personally, I am much more conducive to participating in an open dialogue with classmates in a small, dimly lit, warm, and cozy space, rather than a large, sterile, and white classroom with florescent lighting. My ideal spaces for dialogue, for example, are a fort, cave, and tree house, all small spaces with dim or natural light.  From my experience, the aesthetics created by a learning space has just as much influence on the student, as the teacher’s attitude does. Allowing students to build their own classroom environment in which they feel most comfortable in, may also give voice to the disempowered, perhaps those who feel shy, uncomfortable, and intimidated by a large group discussion in a large classroom of cold, hard, and uncomfortable furniture (Perez Miles, 2012).

 

 

Finally, the aesthetics of forts can be beneficial outside the classroom. Rufo (2012), a fourth grade math teacher, noticed his students disengaged with the playground at recess, but rather going beyond the fence to build a fort in the woods.  The aesthetics of a fort, in this scenario, was playful and community-based.  Students developed different roles in the building process: gatherers, trail-blazers, and builders.  Although this fort was still made with gathered materials, like twigs and branches, and had a similarly small scale, the playfulness from the building process was more of the students’ focus than the activities to be had in the final construction.

 

Aesthetic value changes from social group to social group.  This is why I previously introduced the idea of allowing students to build their own classroom; their aesthetic value may be very different than the instructor’s opinion of a student’s aesthetic value.  Likewise, some groups may see forts as more playful, rather than a comfortable place for conversations.  I believe this is the most important consideration when pondering aesthetic value and meaning; often built from personal experiences, every individual values aesthetics differently, and the instructor’s job is to dismiss expectations and predictions, and be open to students’ voice and participation in aesthetic awareness.

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