|
| IASPIS announces a new series of Urgent Pedagogies UP—Readers that reflect the 2024 conference Learnings/Unlearnings: Environmental Pedagogies, Play, Policies, and Spatial Design, through various conference contributions to environmental learning in form of papers, workshops and art works.
Also Reading shares texts, research and work developed and published outside the Urgent Pedagogies.
|
| |
|
|
| |
| Learnings/Unlearnings poster outside Färgfabriken, Stockholm, Sweden. Design by Jonas Wlliamsson, photo by Nadia Bertolino
|
| |
|
|
| |
| Learnings/Unlearnings: Environmental Pedagogies, Play, Policies, and Spatial Design
|
| |
| |
| A new series of UP—Readers
|
| |
|
|
|
|
| |
|
FILED AS Theory (Series of UP—Readers) |
|
CATEGORY Academia, Research |
|
|
|
| |
|
|
| |
|
|
| Welcome to this series of Readers that reflect the 2024 conference Learnings/Unlearnings: Environmental Pedagogies, Play, Policies, and Spatial Design. The Readers are guest edited by Nicola Antaki, Matthew Ashton, Emilio Brandão, Sara Brolund de Carvalho, Anette Göthlund, Matilde Kautsky, Elke Krasny, Karin Reisinger, Ashraf M. Salama, Meike Schalk, and Rosario Talevi, and will appear between February and June 2025.
|
| |
|
|
| In addition to natural hazard vulnerability, the lack of access to basic infrastructure and financial services imposes restricted production and consumption conditions for this population, as well as limits technological innovations that for some privileged experts, would be promising for reducing our environmental degradation [2]. Hence, when thinking along the United Nation’s promise of “leaving no one behind” for a sustainable future, one must think – What is really possible in marginalized, peripheral, poor contexts?
In my diverse experiences in social projects in Brazil, I came to face situations where from the lack of options, these populations have been actively resisting their existence through informal and creative ways of production, consumption and education. Ways that have been excluded from the respect of government officials and policymakers, but that we can learn from to ressignify our modus operandis that have overpassed the bearable impact on the planet.
I bring to the discussion the practice of mutirão, a word with indigenous roots from Tupi-Guarani mutyrõ (within many other variations), freely translated to English as “common work”. The practice, with debated origin [3], has been present in diverse cultural contexts and geographical regions, suggesting a common intrinsic human trace of solidarity [3], but that aggregates different layers of political and social challenges. Deteriorated by the growing individualization of work configuration, some practices of mutual help survive their remote past’s heritage [3], yet incorporating new complexities of contemporary urban configuration.
In Brazilian cities, despite the legal effort to make cities accessible [4], these challenges include housing deficit, lack of basic services such as sanitation and electricity, and restricted land access [5]. In the overall neglect of this urban ill by some government officials, it creates a condition that obliges people to find informal ways of occupying the city – usually in configurations such as favelas, and ocupações. In these scenarios of poor infrastructure assistance, climate vulnerability is enhanced, being common phenomena of landslides, extreme rainfall and floods that cause significant dwelling damage and human loss. Yet invisibilized by officials, the segregated people find political and social strength by unification of their voices, knowledge and workforce abilities in a territory that is not assisted by formal governance. They collectively construct housing, infrastructure, and collective spaces in labor that are generally non-remunerated, non-hierarchical, and do not aim for a financial profit. Therefore, the mutirão incorporates a political view of anti-hegemonic activity that is contrary to capitalist work relations [6].
To bring this into practical terms, I share a practice of an informal occupation located in Santa Maria, a city in south of Brazil, that is in a current legislative process for the State to formally allow 53 families to live where they have been for the past seven years – “Vila Resistência” – in direct translation – “Villa of Resistance”. The name coherently suggests their will of power, as 15 of the pioneer families came from a situation of eviction from a past land they occupied, and in the current site, they have already been through at least three direct threats of removal [7]. The disputatious situation introduces other various conflicts these organizations encounter, and their need to urgently resist to be able to live.
In addition to natural hazard vulnerability, the lack of access to basic infrastructure and financial services imposes restricted production and consumption conditions for this population, as well as limits technological innovations that for some privileged experts, would be promising for reducing our environmental degradation [2]. Hence, when thinking along the United Nation’s promise of “leaving no one behind” for a sustainable future, one must think – What is really possible in marginalized, peripheral, poor contexts?In my diverse experiences in social projects in Brazil, I came to face situations where from the lack of options, these populations have been actively resisting their existence through informal and creative ways of production, consumption and education. Ways that have been excluded from the respect of government officials and policymakers, but that we can learn from to ressignify our modus operandis that have overpassed the bearable impact on the planet.
I bring to the discussion the practice of mutirão, a word with indigenous roots from Tupi-Guarani mutyrõ (within many other variations), freely translated to English as “common work”. The practice, with debated origin [3], has been present in diverse cultural contexts and geographical regions, suggesting a common intrinsic human trace of solidarity [3], but that aggregates different layers of political and social challenges. Deteriorated by the growing individualization of work configuration, some practices of mutual help survive their remote past’s heritage [3], yet incorporating new complexities of contemporary urban configuration.
In Brazilian cities, despite the legal effort to make cities accessible [4], these challenges include housing deficit, lack of basic services such as sanitation and electricity, and restricted land access [5]. In the overall neglect of this urban ill by some government officials, it creates a condition that obliges people to find informal ways of occupying the city – usually in configurations such as favelas, and ocupações. In these scenarios of poor infrastructure assistance, climate vulnerability is enhanced, being common phenomena of landslides, extreme rainfall and floods that cause significant dwelling damage and human loss. Yet invisibilized by officials, the segregated people find political and social strength by unification of their voices, knowledge and workforce abilities in a territory that is not assisted by formal governance. They collectively construct housing, infrastructure, and collective spaces in labor that are generally non-remunerated, non-hierarchical, and do not aim for a financial profit. Therefore, the mutirão incorporates a political view of anti-hegemonic activity that is contrary to capitalist work relations [6].
To bring this into practical terms, I share a practice of an informal occupation located in Santa Maria, a city in south of Brazil, that is in a current legislative process for the State to formally allow 53 families to live where they have been for the past seven years – “Vila Resistência” – in direct translation – “Villa of Resistance”. The name coherently suggests their will of power, as 15 of the pioneer families came from a situation of eviction from a past land they occupied, and in the current site, they have already been through at least three direct threats of removal [7]. The disputatious situation introduces other various conflicts these organizations encounter, and their need to urgently resist to be able to live.
In addition to natural hazard vulnerability, the lack of access to basic infrastructure and financial services imposes restricted production and consumption conditions for this population, as well as limits technological innovations that for some privileged experts, would be promising for reducing our environmental degradation [2]. Hence, when thinking along the United Nation’s promise of “leaving no one behind” for a sustainable future, one must think – What is really possible in marginalized, peripheral, poor contexts?
In my diverse experiences in social projects in Brazil, I came to face situations where from the lack of options, these populations have been actively resisting their existence through informal and creative ways of production, consumption and education. Ways that have been excluded from the respect of government officials and policymakers, but that we can learn from to ressignify our modus operandis that have overpassed the bearable impact on the planet.
I bring to the discussion the practice of mutirão, a word with indigenous roots from Tupi-Guarani mutyrõ (within many other variations), freely translated to English as “common work”. The practice, with debated origin [3], has been present in diverse cultural contexts and geographical regions, suggesting a common intrinsic human trace of solidarity [3], but that aggregates different layers of political and social challenges. Deteriorated by the growing individualization of work configuration, some practices of mutual help survive their remote past’s heritage [3], yet incorporating new complexities of contemporary urban configuration.
In Brazilian cities, despite the legal effort to make cities accessible [4], these challenges include housing deficit, lack of basic services such as sanitation and electricity, and restricted land access [5]. In the overall neglect of this urban ill by some government officials, it creates a condition that obliges people to find informal ways of occupying the city – usually in configurations such as favelas, and ocupações. In these scenarios of poor infrastructure assistance, climate vulnerability is enhanced, being common phenomena of landslides, extreme rainfall and floods that cause significant dwelling damage and human loss. Yet invisibilized by officials, the segregated people find political and social strength by unification of their voices, knowledge and workforce abilities in a territory that is not assisted by formal governance. They collectively construct housing, infrastructure, and collective spaces in labor that are generally non-remunerated, non-hierarchical, and do not aim for a financial profit. Therefore, the mutirão incorporates a political view of anti-hegemonic activity that is contrary to capitalist work relations [6].
To bring this into practical terms, I share a practice of an informal occupation located in Santa Maria, a city in south of Brazil, that is in a current legislative process for the State to formally allow 53 families to live where they have been for the past seven years – “Vila Resistência” – in direct translation – “Villa of Resistance”. The name coherently suggests their will of power, as 15 of the pioneer families came from a situation of eviction from a past land they occupied, and in the current site, they have already been through at least three direct threats of removal [7]. The disputatious situation introduces other various conflicts these organizations encounter, and their need to urgently resist to be able to live.
As a field, “environmental learning” has sought to advance an understanding of the environment through spatial practices—such as art, architecture, craft, design, and planning—by ways of learning, often employing immersive, embodied, and experimental pedagogical formats. With the attention currently given to lifelong learning by universities and intergovernmental organizations (UNESCO, EU, UN Sustainable Development Goals), we see an opening towards activating and developing environmental learning pedagogies for spatial subjects in contexts of formal, informal, and non-formal learning.
The conference Learnings/Unlearnings took place between September 5–7, 2024, at the art venue Färgfabriken in Stockholm. It developed out of the research collaboration, A Full Loop of Performance: From the Perspectives of Young People, Through Environmental Learning, to the Reviewing of Legal Frameworks in Multi-actor Constellations, and Back Again, involving researchers and practitioners from KTH School of Architecture and Konstfack—University of Arts, Crafts and Design’s Department of Visual Arts and Sloyd Education—and visiting artists and researchers in the fields of architecture, art, craft, design, pedagogy, politics, and social work. It draws on existing environmental learning cultures for advancing new perspectives on the urgent issues of social justice in the (built) environment and learning from resourceful material practices.
The event brought together over one hundred speakers, practitioners and researchers, from various backgrounds exploring the link between spatial practices and pedagogies, through analyses, reflections, instructed conversations, explorative workshops, panels, exhibits, performances, policy proposals, and other approaches. It also engaged Färgfabriken’s Youth Council to conduct interviews with the conference guests during the three-day event, and the group of five teenagers from Hovsjö Youth Center, who have participated in A Full Loop as co-researchers from the start, to act as “friendly critical observers” at the conference.
The conference addressed the urgency of “environmental learning” and probed possibilities of lost knowledge, pedagogical formats, media and practices, spatial and material conditions, theories, and policy frameworks. We asked the questions:
How could environmental learning make public spaces and third places more accessible and engage a broader section of society in their creation and transformation? How could knowledge that is developed in art, design and architecture practices, in collaboration with particular groups, be made operational for educating future spatial practitioners and educators? How would collaborative activities with concerned actors feed into policy making to improve our “designed living environments” regarding social justice?
|
| |
|
|
|
|
| The project responds to the call Designed Living Environment—Architecture, Form, Design, Art and Cultural Heritage in Public Spaces, and is funded by Formas—a Swedish Research Council for Sustainable Development with the Swedish National Board of Housing, Building and Planning; ArkDes; the Swedish National Heritage Board; and the Public Arts Agency Sweden, under the grant agreement number 2020-02402.
Thank you to Färgfabriken in Stockholm, especially to Karin Englund and Anna-Karin Wulgué for hosting Learnings/Unlearnings.
|
|
| |
|
Urgent Pedagogies is an IASPIS project.
|
|
