Abstract
The purpose of this article is to demonstrate how I grappled with questions about the meaning, purpose, and process of playful writing to represent a dance performance based on the oral history narrative of Sybil Jordan Hampton, the sole African American enrolled in her class at Little Rock Central High in Arkansas from 1959 to 1962. Through the presentation of six moments from the dance that I captured through photographs, I explore the possibilities of writing about dance using graphic art to invoke critical reflection and social justice-oriented action, rather than solely as a representation of the dance performance. I examine the complexities surrounding playful writing, layered representations in writing about dance that represents lived experience, and consider whether nontraditional text presented as graphic art enhances the potential for meaning making about social justice action.
Keywords
In this article, I engage in writing as a playful activity (Ulmer, 2018) by experimenting with writing about dance using graphic art as an alternative form of expression to provoke critical reflection and consideration of social justice-oriented action. The purpose of this activity is to demonstrate how I grappled with questions about the meaning, purpose, and process of writing to represent dance that illuminates social justice research as a sociopolitical act, as in performance ethnography (Denzin, 2003). From my position as a Black woman and scholar of educational leadership, I was particularly interested in social justice as it relates to and transcends schools. This experimentation was important because social justice leadership, as an academic discipline and the arts-based paradigm of performance ethnography, rests on social justice principles that compel creators and participants (e.g., audience members) to create change. This requires a commitment beyond awareness and presentation. Markula (2006a) considered “the possibilities of dance making to change social science thinking instead of using dance as a representational tool for research” (p. 353). Likewise, I consider the possibilities of writing about dance using graphic art to invoke change rather than as solely a representational tool of the dance performance.
The impetus for this article stems from a project that included me and three others that is based on the narrative of Sybil Jordan Hampton, the sole African American enrolled in her class at Little Rock Central High in Arkansas from 1959 to 1962 (Lowery & Hampton, 2020). The project integrated oral history, dance performance, and dialogue to engage audiences differently with oral history. We sought to understand whether and how audience members generated meaning to apply to their own lives as potential leaders for social justice.
Bell (2016) described social justice as a goal and a process. The goal is “full and equitable participation of people from all social identity groups”; the process to achieve social justice should “be democratic and participatory, respectful of human diversity and group differences, and inclusive and affirming of human agency” (Bell, 2016, p. 3). The enactment of social justice is increasingly recognized as an essential mindset and skill of educators and school leaders (Bogotch & Reyes-Guerra, 2014; Hernandez et al., 2014; Jean-Marie et al., 2009). As schools reflect the inequitable patterns that exist in society at large, social justice educators must examine the ways in which they can dismantle those inequities. Scanlan and Theoharis (2021) argued that to do so, “school leaders need the knowledge, skills, and dispositions to create schools that eliminate marginalization across these multiple dimensions of diversity” (p. 1). Although the authors referred to formal school leaders, part of my interest in this project was to understand how leadership for social justice could be conceptualized outside of formal positions such as the principal. Therefore, our project team became interested in how we might convey through dance Sybil’s social justice leadership as a student, borne from her experience fighting for racial justice (Lowery et al., 2022).
The Project
In an oral history interview, Sybil narrated her experiences at Central High beginning in the fall of 1959, when public high schools were reopened after being closed during the 1958–1959 academic year in response to forced desegregation by the federal government. During her three years, no White students spoke to her except to hurl insults including the n-word. Once, a boy spat in her face. Only three White faculty (two teachers and one administrator) offered her an encouraging word. Despite this treatment, what Sybil refers to as shunning, she thrived academically and eventually earned a doctorate in education from Columbia University. Sybil attributed her perseverance to her parents, who planted love in her heart to withstand the hatred, and the excellent education she received in the African American community (Lowery & Hampton, 2020).
Using arts-based research methods (Bagley & Cancienne, 2002; Snowber, 2012), Susan, a White female dance professor and I collaborated to create a dance performance based on Sybil’s narrative. We identified the theme of inner strength based on our analysis of the transcript, audio recording of the oral history interview, and further conversation with Sybil. The purpose of the dance was to present Sybil’s experience as a platform to provoke thinking about racial justice and how her experience might relate to social justice themes more broadly. We also aimed to reach a broader audience through a dance performance compared with traditional methods such as a lecture (Markula, 2006b).
Susan choreographed the dance which Rebecca, an African American alumna of the dance program, performed. Instead of dancing to music consisting of a melody and rhythm, Rebecca danced to excerpts from Sybil’s narration. In some passages of the recording, words were elongated and digitally transformed by a sound technician. By setting the context during the introduction, and through facilitated dialogue after the performance, we engaged audience members to consider how the theme of strength that prevailed over dehumanization and exclusion was both specific to Sybil’s story as an African American girl and how lessons learned might be applied to other experiences of social exclusion. We described how our racial identities and different lived experiences spanning generations and geographic place informed our reflexive process for developing the dance performance, elsewhere (Lowery et al., 2022).
The performance was a re-telling or re-voicing through dance of Sybil’s lived experience and our interpretation of that experience. As a researcher might interpret an oral history through the development of themes and expound upon them in a written manuscript (my typical process as a qualitative researcher), the dance professor (Susan) and dancer (Rebecca) interpreted Sybil’s story through choreography and dance movement. These multiple layers of interpretation added to the complexity of our representation and centered the importance of voice in storytelling. In attempting to write about dance as it relates to presenting themes of history, race, and social justice, I continuously grappled with interpretation, representation, and presentation of Sybil’s voice. Markula (2006b) identified this reality by asserting, “the research act, the research results, and ultimately the knowledge we produce represent multiple voices” (p. 354). As a representation of oral history, it was important that Sybil’s voice be most dominant, as the narrator of her lived experience. We also acknowledged that my voice was present in the questions I chose to ask during the interview that, in part, yielded Sybil’s narrative, Susan’s voice was present in her interpretation through choreography, and Rebecca’s voice was present in her interpretation of choreography and dance performance.
Dance, Arts-Based Educational Research and Social Justice
We were drawn to arts-based educational research (ABER) because we sought to provoke, or “incite” (Alexander, 2005, p. 412), the audience to critical analysis, awareness, realization, and activism (Capous-Desyllas & Morgaine, 2018; Denzin & Lincoln, 2005; Osei-Kofi, 2013). Dance performance as a method of research presentation creates broader possibilities for reflection and discussion about themes drawn from lived experiences, such as Sybil’s (Bagley & Cancienne, 2002; Markula, 2006b; Snowber, 2018). Social justice activism and ABER have the goal of transformation in common. Martin (1995) described overreading as a process where one analyzes social movements within dance to create new possibilities in dance and social movements. He explained, Overreading rests on the assumption that the subtext displayed in dancing accounts for more than that particular aesthetic activity and points instead to the very contours through which a given horizon for social activity is possible. (Martin, 1995, p. 184) As related to my interest in dance and social justice leadership, I sought to engage in overreading as a way to make sense of Sybil’s experience in relation to social justice activism. We hoped to generate collective understanding from Sybil’s experience as a source for imagining possibilities for social justice activism.
We envisioned the dance performance as a sociopolitical act that aids in a critique of social inequities through a social justice lens. This framing situates it within performance ethnography (Denzin, 2003). Denzin explained, “This performance ethic asks that interpretive work provide the foundations for social criticism by subjecting specific programs and policies to concrete analysis” (Denzin, 2003, p. 17). Relatedly, we aimed to engage audiences in a critique of the context and impact of racism, through the lens of Sybil’s lived experience (Lowery & Hampton, 2020; Lowery et al., 2022). When situated in the historical context of race, performance, and critical pedagogy, the performance of Sybil’s experience is part of a long tradition of Black artists, including W. E. B. DuBois, Amiri Baraka, Anna Deavere Smith, and August Wilson who uplifted the agency of Blacks through Black theater (Denzin, 2003) that was designed and performed by and for Black people. This tradition within dance includes Black artists such as Katherine Dunham, Alvin Ailey, and Bill T. Jones, who used dance as a vehicle to express Black lived experiences, quests for equality, and to invoke sociopolitical consciousness. Themes of resistance against oppression expressed in these performances are often reiterated through personal narratives such as oral history.
Oral History, Arts-Based Research, Dance, and Social Justice
Oral history methods are increasingly utilized by researchers who collect personal narratives about the past, which often contribute to deeper and more diverse understandings of human experiences (Mulvihill & Swaminathan, 2022; Ritchie, 2003; Sharpless, 2007). Stories of people who narrate their experiences in historic movements or events contribute to, and often challenge, mainstream narratives about history. These narratives often provide insights into the past that may otherwise go undocumented, forgotten, or unknown (Allen & Daugherity, 2006; Morrissey, 2007). Mulvihill and Swaminathan (2022) noted that oral history “is an umbrella term that integrates history, life history methods, and testimony accounts” and “refers to the process of data gathering as well as to the product of such research” (p. 4). Furthermore, oral histories can provide space to explore and consider social justice issues that can be revealed through art, including dance (Janesick, 2010).
The performance of oral histories, or “oral history performance” (Frisch, 1990, n.p.) presents personal narratives in ways that engage audiences in arts-based performances. These performances, such as the dance performance of Sybil’s oral history, are of increasing interest among scholars. Performances range from song, speech, orchestral or experimental music compositions, to performance and musical theater (Friedman, 2008). Highly regarded examples of this art form include Anna Deveare Smith’s theatrical performances that are based on oral history interviews of narrators who describe sociopolitical crises in Brooklyn and Los Angeles. Audience members were engaged in critical thinking about important societal issues (Lyons & Lyons, 1994; Myers, 1998).
Friedman (2008) explained there is a natural bridge between oral history narration and performance because the “performative quality of the narratives . . . bracket themselves as staging containers” (p. 232). Performances can cover a wide range of lived experiences in the context of a wide range of sociopolitical issues such as AIDS, labor, and economic transitions (Frisch, 1990). For example, Friedman (2008) choreographed and performed dances based on oral histories he collected from people who were dying of AIDS in the 1980s and 1990s. Relatedly, Sybil’s oral history provoked deliberation about the human costs of racial segregation and social exclusion while reframing deficit views about Black people by emphasizing her thriving in the face of oppression. The dance performance engaged the audience to consider these themes as they listened to Sybil’s narration.
The dance performance is embedded within the rich tradition of Black dancers and choreographers who embodied Black cultural experiences through dance. For Black artists of dance such as Alvin Ailey and Katherine Dunham before him, theatrical dance offered a way into the artistic imagination of black people grappling with the legacy of colonialist encounter. The concert stage provided a point of entry to a dialogue about dual processes of entertainment and enlightenment, expressed in terms of modern dance. (DeFrantz, 2004, p. xiv)
The piece titled “I Can Turn the Sun Away” was performed 3 times: first, at a dress rehearsal with invited audience members; next at an academic conference; and then at a community event. The photographs were taken during the dress rehearsal performance and are used with Rebecca’s permission. As I wrote about how Rebecca captured the strength that Sybil embodied, I struggled to adequately convey the ways that strength in pursuit of social justice was depicted visually and through movement, in conjunction with Sybil’s narration. This created challenges regarding the act of writing and was the catalyst for me to play with alternative textual representations.
Challenges of Writing About Dance and Social Justice
The first challenge I faced was how to express movement in written form. As a result of my choice to interpret the data through dance, also referred to as dancing the data (Bagley & Cancienne, 2002; Markula, 2011), the theme development is expressed as movement, rather than words. This challenge is compounded by the fact that I am writing about dance when my field is not dance and I have never been a trained dancer. In contrast, Markula and others (Markula, 2006a, 2006b, 2011; Snowber, 2018; Ulmer, 2018) who wrote about dance were trained as dancers. I lack the technical training and language that would aid in my expression of what I saw in the dance performance. In addition, as most people who would read my writing are likely not dancers, it is unlikely that the technical description of dance choreography would convey my intended meaning or be understood by readers.
Dance researchers have explored the challenges of writing about dance in textual forms. For example, Pascual (2013) described how a European dance company used motion capture technology to aid researchers in interpreting data. Through constant dialogue and multiple activities using the technology, “all the different disciplines [found] their own voice revealing the knowledge that is dance” (p. 73, italics original). Yet, words and language were also an important part of the dance performance and research process.
The question of expertise and training to write about dance is common among dancers. Daniel (2010) trained himself to look at diverse forms of dance from a variety of different perspectives, including as a nonexpert. He underscored my concern about writing about dance with his skepticism “of dance ‘written’ and understood as a text, rather than as a genre that is performed and apprehended physically through bodies” (p. 3).
At the same time, I wonder whether representing dance through words belies the whole purpose of dance as an expression of data. In other words, to what extent should we expect writing to represent dance? Carter (1976) ruminated, “There are undoubtedly some who feel that any attempt to write about so physical an activity as dance would be wasteful, worthless activity” (p. 215). His response is a source of inspiration for my experimentation with writing about dance: Writing is a fundamental way in which societies such as ours incorporate important activities and experiences as a part of the on-going culture . . . it behooves those interested in the welfare of dance to take greater care to see that dance is incorporated effectively into present-day cultures (p. 215).
Dance scholars have considered the value and/or importance of writing about dance. Longley (2008) stated that research involving choreographic writing of an improvised work is based upon “the concept of writing as a form of listening and attending to movement” (p. 1). I found it interesting that she did not explicitly state watching or viewing dance movement. However, Malnig et al. (2009) pondered how students might see, think, and communicate about the dance experience through writing. One student found a connection between her body and the way she writes, while other students needed help to incorporate rhythm and sound into their awareness.
Pascual (2013) argued, “Dance as an art form provides a means of perception, a physical experience, a communication process and a strong sensory motor awareness that can be of great value to understanding the role of the body in communicative praxis” (p. 71). A main challenge I faced for this project was that the theme development is expressed as movement (Bagley & Cancienne, 2002) rather than words. As I reflected upon Pascual’s words, I realized that the dance as a representation of the themes could be sufficient without additional writing. I realized that if I wanted to represent Sybil’s experiences through words, I could have done just that and not pursued a dance performance. I questioned whether a return to the written word conflicted with dancing the data. Except, writing about dance allows me to interpret movement and interpretation of Sybil’s emotions and experiences differently than in a live performance. For one, I had more time to reflect on and process the imagery.
I considered consulting with Susan to learn the choreographic terms for each move captured in the photographs I selected to describe (Photographs 1–6). However, my purpose was not to identify specific dance moves. Rather, it was to describe the emotion or thought that represented Sybil’s resolve to fight for social justice. Therefore, I had to consider how to most effectively explain how the dance represents some aspect of Sybil’s experience while connecting it to social justice in Sybil’s life, which in turn might move the audience to reflect about connections to their own social justice activism. I also did not want to rely on a description of the choreography as the only way to write about dance because the moves themselves would not necessarily convey the social significance of Sybil’s social justice activism. To write about social justice requires an articulation of its fundamental principles and characteristics of social justice activists and outcomes. Words associated with research about and by activists include human dignity, passion, courage, equality, voice, commitment, struggle, persistence, sorrow, joy, resilience, service, and strength (for example, see Devlin, 2018 or Lanier, 2009). Therefore, I attempted to align the spirit of these characteristics that Sybil embodied with the dance and written representation.

Moment 1: “I discovered I was all alone...that people had hardened their hearts.”

Moment 2: Tension and emotional weight.

Moment 3: Strength.

Moment 4: Owning her strength.

Moment 5: “I can turn the sun away.”

Moment 6: Love. “That’s in me.”
Playing With Text to Represent Dance and Social Justice Themes
Writing about dance movement was complicated because I lacked the words to express the power and emotion evoked through movement, even when considering the power of social justice-related language. I present examples from my play where I used basic Word functions and photographs. I experimented with different textual representations of movement and expression of the intersection between dance and fragments of Sybil’s narrative that resonated with my interpretation of themes of strength, challenging oppression, and social justice. Ulmer (2015) might agree that I engaged in choreographic writing, which she described as “visual text in which words move, pause, gain emphasis, and flow as if dancing across the open page” (p. 35). The process is a departure from traditional typesetting practices. To be sure, my experimentation was a departure from any kind of academic writing I had done from K–12 schooling to that point.
As I am a novice at this type of expression, this was a playful writing activity. Ulmer (2018) explained how play contributes to creativity: “I often play even though I am not certain what will happen. In fact, I play precisely because I am uncertain of what will happen, of what will be produced in any particular moment” (p. 730). She presented three playful writing activities and suggested that readers might develop their own playful techniques. Importantly, she noted, “Each play space encourages active engagements with the text” (p. 731). Active engagement with text can lead to new thinking. What is produced might conflict with previous thoughts. Consideration of what is produced and grappling with essential principles of social justice, produced new thinking and creative representation. My playful activity involved experimenting with graphic art by manipulating font sizes, shapes, effects, and word art. I started playing by using simple functions in Microsoft Word, such as Wrap Text.
Although this was interesting, it did not feel so much like play because of my limited use of Word for academic writing. There was a certain vulnerability that accompanied me throughout this process because I am not a graphic artist. I wanted to play but it was both intellectually and emotionally taxing to learn how to use a new function and then try it to no avail. Thankfully, I was aided in this play by my graduate assistant, a master’s degree student in emerging media design and development. I identified the moments in the dance captured in photographs. We discussed my interpretation in context of the oral history and dance performance. I drew several images by hand to illustrate how I envisioned the spacing of words. She engaged in play by transferring the written images into the images below. We then engaged in further analysis of those images as I contemplated whether they accurately represented my interpretation of the photo of the dance moment and Sybil’s narrative.
Representations of Dance
I present six distinct moments in the dance performance. Each moment is a choreographed movement aligned with a passage from Sybil’s oral history narrative. With each moment, I include a photograph of the movement and demonstrate how I would likely convey my interpretation of the dance movement as traditional written text, followed by one or two examples of how I played with text to see whether my interpretation of in many cases, the emotional weight of the dance and narrative could be further developed. Photographs and images are labeled below their respective placement.
Moment 1: “I Discovered I Was All Alone. . . That People Had Hardened Their Hearts”
At this moment, Sybil’s words sound like a diminished chord that has an eerie, dark tone. As the chord is sustained, Rebecca is bent over at the waist. Her knees are bent, head is turned to the left, and her right arm is partially stretched in front of her with her hand facing upward (Photograph 1). Sybil’s realization of the tragic truth that she was alone in the school—that she was socially isolated—led to inner turmoil. She knew that she had a right to attend Central, yet the treatment she received was antithetical to how her community and family nurtured her. That dissonance created inner turmoil.
Image 1 depicts this turmoil in another way. The use of three lines of the words “inner turmoil” conveys the gravity of emotion. The fonts are all different and the bottom line is the thickest. It draws one’s eye down to the bottom. This is associated with heaviness, gravity, sorrow, and bottom. This is the reality of Sybil’s situation due to the racist context of the time.

Moment 1: Inner turmoil after discovering, “I was all alone.”
Moment 2: Tension and Emotional Weight
This moment is an immediate continuation of inner turmoil. As the narration continues, Rebecca shakes her hand rapidly, as if she has a tremor, while the music (the technically manipulated narrative) intensifies (Photograph 2). This created a feeling of tension and discomfort. Her shaking hand visually cues us to consider the emotional weight of the turmoil Sybil felt as she was in the midst of racial oppression and shunning.
Continuing the use of bold font to depict the emotional weight of Sybil’s experience, I chose to make the word “tension” appear to be shaking, to reflect Rebecca’s shaking hand in Image 2.

Moment 2: Tension and emotional weight.
Image 3 incorporates text, space, different fonts, and the picture of a hand with lines around it to signal shaking, to explain this moment in the performance. In some regards, this is intended to be a visual representation of the moment. The picture of the hand focuses the reader’s attention to what we want to draw their attention to—the tremoring hand. The words “shakes her hand rapidly” are written to visually represent shaking up and down. Similar to how “tension” is depicted above, the word “tremor” is written to evoke movement. Finally, the word “intensifies” is in bold to communicate the heaviness of the mood.

A visual representation of movement in Moment 2.
Moment 3: Strength
The chord that is produced by Sybil’s words changes to a major one, which sounds hopeful. Through her movements, Rebecca transforms the turmoil to strength. Her body opens up like a butterfly who spreads its wings. Through her arm movement, Rebecca spreads her wings and becomes the embodiment of Sybil’s strength, both physically and figuratively. Sybil’s strength is displayed in Rebecca’s physical strength and flexibility as she bends backward with her left leg in front of her right leg, arms fully stretched behind her and she looks up (Photograph 3). Interestingly, this is similar to a reverse warrior pose in yoga. The warrior is a symbol of strength. This picture best illustrates the theme of strength (in my opinion) because it is a convergence of the literal meaning of physical strength required for Rebecca to carry out this pose, the emotional and psychological strength required of Sybil to endure.
My interpretation of how this moment embodies Sybil’s strength is expressed visually in Image 4 as the words replicate the shape of Rebecca’s body in this pose. The words “displayed” and “flexibility” are Rebecca’s arms; “backward with left leg” is her bent right leg behind her body; “Rebecca’s physical” and “as she bends” represent her torso; and “strength and” is her bent left leg. Rebecca’s backbend captured in this moment, centers Okello’s (2019) discussion of limbos, backbreaking postures through which Black feminisms “cultivated models and strategies for resistance that rejected injunctions of the status quo” (p. 35). Indeed, Sybil’s rejection of White supremacist attempts to make her accept their racist notions of her unworthiness shine through in this moment. To this point, Okello asserted, “limbos are ideal spaces for witnessing, giving language to experiences, which might otherwise remain muted” (p. 35, italics original).

Moment 3: Strength.
Moment 4: Owning Her Strength
Rebecca continues her embodiment of strength in this pose. As she rises from the floor, she creates another image of strength. She sits on the floor with arms outstretched to her sides (Photograph 4). Similar to Image 4, the text in Image 5 is written in such a way to visually represent Rebecca’s position on the floor. I played with separating the photographs from the image but decided to include them side by side so that the image was clearer to understand. I am undecided whether the act of figuring out what the image means is an important enough part of the interpretive process, as opposed to engaging the reader in how I interpreted the dance performance.

A visual representation of Moment 4.
Another way I visualized the theme of strength was by accentuating certain parts of the words “owning her strength” as in Image 6. This is different because it is a representation of the theme, rather than a visual representation of the pose. I am limited by my association of strong with bold, meaning bold text.

Moment 4: Owning her strength.
Moment 5: “I Can Turn the Sun Away”
At this moment in the narration, Sybil reckons with her experiences. She speaks of how she was able to persevere because of love. She explains, “I’m not angry. . . I can turn the sun away. . . I have the capacity to do that.” In the dance performance, Rebecca stands on her right leg and raises her left leg, which is bent at the knee (Photograph 5). She demonstrates forward and upward movement, as if she is taking on the challenges presented to her and persevering. To do this, she resolved to love others, rather than wallow in hate.
Alternately, Image 7 is a textual representation of the open and positive love Sybil exudes. The spaces between the letters in the phrase “I can turn the sun away” are intended to convey a sense of openness and expansiveness that Rebecca demonstrated in the dance movement. “I can turn the sun away” became the title of the dance because it captures the essence of Sybil’s hopeful perspective about life. Throughout the performance, one is reminded that Sybil’s capacity to love was so bright that she could turn away the sun.

Moment 5: “I can turn the sun away.”
Another image that represents Sybil’s capacity to turn away the sun is seen in Image 8. Here, the overarching theme of strength is combined with the sun.

A representation of Sybil’s inner strength represented as the sun, as described in Moment 5.
Moment 6: Love. “That’s in Me”
As a continuation of Sybil’s statement of love, she declares, “That’s [love] in me.” Through her dance movement, Rebecca demonstrates that Sybil was and is a beacon of love. Rebecca contracts her core, and outstretches her arms and hands. Her left leg is bent and heel is up. Her body becomes like a circle, encompassing the space in front of her (Photograph 6). In this movement, it is as if she can wrap her body around love. Therefore, this pose best illustrates the theme of love.
A variation of the words used to describe this moment in the performance is in Image 9. The top image is similar to Images 3 and 4. “Her love (head and neck) sustained her . . . contracts (outstretched arms curved in front of Rebecca’s body) her core, outstretched hands, left (torso) leg bent and heel is up (legs)” are a representation of the image in the pose. The middle section is descriptive: “Her body becomes like a circle—encompassing something.” The “something” is love. The phrase “She can wrap her body around” is literally wrapped around the word “love.”

Moment 6: Love. “That’s in me.”
Making Sense of Playful Writing About Dance
One challenge I experienced centered on the technical writing of dance. Another challenge concerned my capacity to present dance data in nontraditional written forms and how engaging in play could aid my efforts. This article is my first foray into writing about dance. It was challenging and pushed me to consider the purpose, function, and presentation of my writing. Writing about movement is challenging but can be developed with practice. Giguere (2017) recommended that dance teachers prepare students to describe movement through assignments where they are asked to respond to prompts such as “What are the qualities of the movement? What imagery or emotions does it evoke as an observer” (p. 24)? As I collaborate on more dance projects, I will include prompts such as these and others (Harris, 2013) in my observations and discuss them with my colleagues who are dance performers and scholars.
A goal of my playful writing was to convey how Rebecca’s physical movement embodied Sybil’s strength in her quest for social justice. It is evident that Rebecca’s performance of the dance required great physical strength and flexibility. One cannot underestimate the technical skill required to use tools available to create text and images that underscore the physical nature of her movement. This made the challenge of technical writing multilayered because I am not entirely sure that my text that expresses the moments (Photographs 1–6) sufficiently captures the meaning expressed through Rebecca’s physical movement. That is why I included photographs to accompany my text. If I can write in such a way to achieve this goal, then text alone might be sufficient. Ulmer (2015) beckoned me to continue this pursuit of new or different (to me) writing about dance by claiming, “By changing the ways in which we write, we might also change the ways in which we think” (p. 36). I am hopeful for changes in how we think about dance representation in writing and how we think about enacting social justice.
I have a greater understanding of the complexities underlying the relationship between writing about dance and choreography, even though I did not intend to write about specific dance movements. The images I created for Moments 4 and 6 most directly reflect choreography. I continue to think about whether constructing the words visually in the shape of Rebecca’s body enhances understanding of Sybil’s fight for social justice—the sorrow and resilience she exhibited at a young age in her quest to be treated as an equal human being. I wonder whether designing and spacing text to resemble the rhythm of Rebecca’s movements would enhance or detract from the gravity of the fixed poses.
These wonderings underscore my assertion that playful writing in this context should not be misconstrued as frivolous, unproductive, or childish. Rather, play is childish from a pedagogical standpoint and it is not frivolous. I characterize play as childish because adults tend to play less than children. However, play supports adult learning of new concepts (Mardell et al., 2023). In fact, Mardell et al. (2023) wrote Pedagogy of Play, a book for P–12 educators because they want children “to lead their own learning, explore the unknown, and find joy in school [because] using play as a strategy for learning is vital in addressing complex local and global issues” (p. 7). Notably, they also clarify that “An invitation to play does not mean we do not take teaching, learning, and school seriously” (p. 10). In other words, even playful learning for children is not frivolous. These goals for children’s learning also relate to my experimentation with text and the aim of social justice.
Another important question as I reflect on this activity is, to what extent, if any, does my writing as graphic art (more) effectively communicate Sybil’s quest for racial justice? I obviously cannot answer this question for others because each person will interpret this text through their own personal lived experience, positionality, and knowledge about social justice. But, I am not taking the easy way out of the question. While I cannot say how effective it is, I believe that the text does engage the reader with Sybil’s expression of her lived experience toward social justice beyond only words. Visual engagement with the six dance moments can provoke deeper reflection about Sybil’s strength and the methods used to collect and present her narrative by using textual space and images in different ways.
Relatedly, I wonder whether the writing and graphic images will propel the reader to grapple with the dance themes, or whether they primarily serve as representations or a report of my interpretations of the dance moments. Are the graphic images representations of the embodied representation of Sybil’s strength? They offer the reader another opportunity to make sense of Sybil’s experience beyond the text and photos. In that sense, the images are a representation of the dance, which is a representation of the oral history interview, which is a representation of Sybil’s lived experience. Possibilities for new interpretations, connections, and reflections exist within these layered representations.
Research-creation pushes thinking about these questions about representation and ABER even further. Scholars describe this as an experimental practice at the intersection of art practice (e.g., dance), theoretical concepts (e.g., social justice), and research (e.g., ABER and research about social justice; Springgay & Truman, 2019). Researchers are challenged to do “more-than-represent.” That is, do more than “report on research creations [and] use them to propel further thought and create something new.” While I think elements of this exist in the dance and dialogue, there is opportunity to consider how writing about dance contributes to something new. Furthermore, those engaged in research-creation do not aim to “reflect on something that has passed” and, instead, think in the present and future simultaneously (The Pedagogical Impulse, n.d.). My representation of oral history is based on the past, so it does not align with that tenet of research-creation. However, in thinking about possibilities, knowing that our contexts and positions are shaped by our pasts, I wonder whether oral histories play a role in thinking in the present.
Given that the content of my playful activity was performance ethnography, it is crucial to consider the extent to which experiencing graphic text that represents the dance contributes to our stated aims of provoking the reader’s self-reflection about and enactment of their personal social justice activism. Does the reader pledge to be more inclusive with people who are different from them in their workplace? Might the reader be compelled to disrupt racist or homophobic discourse among their family? I am not suggesting that there might be an immediate, ground shaking spark of activity that results in a major social movement as a result of viewing my graphic art. However, I wonder whether people might consider the role of their individual actions in the pursuit of social justice. Markula (2011) acknowledged that experimenting with dance performance to interrogate and create social change around femininity was fun, but she pondered, “did ‘having fun’ legitimize these pieces as performance ethnography” and did her work result in changed material conditions in the lives of women (p. 36)? While I made the distinction between “fun” for enjoyment and play for creativity earlier, like Markula, I do not want the ultimate goal of this activity, from the oral history, data interpretation, dance choreography, and performance, to playful writing to overshadow action toward social justice. Although I draw from Markula’s experiences, my inquiry about dance is different, because she asked questions about the impact of dancing data, while I am inquiring about the impact of writing about the dance. While Markula surmised “the actual impact [of her dance performance at a conference] was difficult to assess [because her] performance did not provoke discussion in the session” (p. 47), I was able to assess the meaning of our dance performance because I facilitated dialogue about the performance after. Although I am pondering about writing rather than performing the dance, we share concerns about meaningfulness and impact.
Beginning Rather Than Concluding Thoughts
As I was inserting the photographs and images into this text, I felt . . . more joyful. The images that were created are beautiful to me. The images and photographs brought back the memory of a beautiful piece about a beautiful woman’s qualities. I wonder, does this evoke the same meaning for someone who neither saw the performance nor was involved in the research process? That remains to be seen and requires me to think more deeply about representation, what, if any, new meaning or understanding about the participant’s life and dancer’s interpretation is made because of it, and the role, if any, reading and viewing the images sparks social justice action within one’s personal, familial, social, institutional, or political spheres.
I embarked on this activity to consider the challenges, experience, and outcomes of playful writing about dance performance and social justice. I find the photographs and text as a result of my play provocative enough to continue exploring what they mean and if they do what I intended them to do. That is, I wonder if they engage the reader/viewer in meaning making about Sybil’s life and provoke them to consider how lessons from her lived experience can be translated into contemporary social justice activism. For me, playful writing was a process of trial, error, and persistence. In the pursuit of creativity and consideration of nontraditional texts, I encourage more play. Playfulness sparks creation, which engenders limitless possibilities for expression, connection, reflection, and transformation.
An impactful part of this activity was the articulation of emotion about themes of oppression, resistance, and strength in each dance moment. The performance evoked an emotional response, but I could not immediately access the language to communicate why it was emotional. Relatedly, as I dialogued with the audience after the performances, I often heard the phrase, “This was powerful.” Unpacking what was powerful and why it was powerful took some time because the emotional weight of the performance overwhelmed our ability to articulate our thoughts. At the beginning of the writing process, I felt emotional but did not have a way to address it in writing. Either because of or through the process of playing with the text and creating graphic images, I was able to articulate my emotions. Articulation of emotion is not enough regarding social justice action, but it could be a catalyst to pivot from inaction toward action. Ultimately, perhaps representation of social justice is more about the ability to assist the reader/viewer to make connections between data and oneself to incite reflection and action. I will continue to engage in this effort because the representation and interpretation of Sybil’s lived experience and other stories of social justice activism are worth it.
Footnotes
Acknowledgements
I am thankful to Sybil Jordan Hampton for sharing her lived experiences as the foundation for this work. I express gratitude to Susan Koper and Rebecca Lomax for their artistic collaboration. Finally, I am grateful to Alexis (Kiesel) Richardson for her assistance generating the graphic art.
Declaration of Conflicting Interests
The author(s) declared no potential conflicts of interest with respect to the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
Funding
The author(s) received no financial support for the research, authorship, and/or publication of this article.
