My older brother had Down Syndrome. Growing up with a “special” brother meant enduring the looks of disgust from others in restaurants as he ate, hearing the whispers of people in the grocery store as he walked past, and witnessing the ridicule of classmates on playgrounds as he played. But the experience of having a brother with Down Syndrome also yielded the gifts of seeing great kindness in people who would shower him with love and affection. People would make him his favorite food, bring him special gifts, and appreciate his deep bellied laugh when they told him jokes. To some, he was a light, to others, he was not “normal.” To me, he was my first introduction to what it meant to be marginalized, and when I started graduate school, he became my “go-to” subject for the beginning of each project. He was always willing to help his baby sister, and I always enjoyed the time with him.
I was starting on one such project with my brother when I found the graduate studios doors spray-painted with text reading, “Dyke Bar” and “Gay Bar.” I had recently come out as part of the Queer community and this graffiti felt like an invasion of a sanctuary. Art school was the place where I had previously been able to take risks in my practice. It previously felt like a safe space to create work about the oppression of people with differing abilities, while exploring my own sexual identity. I was shaken, and no longer felt free to openly explore. To make matters worse, I was asked by faculty to wash the text off, but I refused. It was important to me that whoever had spray painted those words not see someone from their targeted community laboring to clean it up. Instead, I sought to appropriate what they had done and use it to empower others.
That night, my partner suggested I consider this experience a new commonality with my brother. He had suffered ridicule his entire life, but this sort of direct attack was somewhat new to me. Before this event, marginalization for me came through a lens of being a woman from a working-class family, and from the experiences of being a first-generation college student. Yet, I had also been sheltered by the unearned privileges of being white, cis-gendered, and presumed straight. This event changed everything about my work as a creator and academic. I began studies in Women, Gender, and Sexuality in addition to Filmmaking and Photography, I focused research efforts on the effects of marginalization and intersectionality, and I created videos and installations grounded in socio-political intent conceptually based on knowledge gained from those subjects.
Since that time long ago in graduate school, Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives have remained forefront in my work as an academic, teacher, artist, and human. While teaching at Georgia Southwestern State University (GSW), I served as the Director of the Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies (WGSS) program. As the Director of WGSS, I coordinated events ranging from performances of The Vagina Monologues, a campus “Slut Walk,” a “Take Back the Night” 5K race and fundraiser, and a V-Day dance off. One specific event that I am particularly proud of was a performance of Bodies. Faculty, staff, and students wrote personal accounts in the style of The Vagina Monologues and performed them in our experimental theater. As part of the event, my partner and I wrote and performed for Bodies, and I exhibited a solo show in the Fine Arts gallery. The Fine Arts building was filled to capacity for the opening, with standing room only in the theater. Also, at GSW, I was one of the President-appointed faculty to serve on the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion taskforce, was the adviser for the Queer / Straight Alliance, and taught a diverse student body which included people from lower socioeconomic standings, minority races and ethnicities, and various gender identities and sexualities. Finally, my passion for DEI led to the completion of a graduate certificate in Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies at Georgia State University in 2016 just before taking my current position with Johnson County Community College (JCCC).
At JCCC I have continued work and advocacy in DEI. Beginning in 2017, I joined colleagues across campus to petition the college for a DEI office. This initial group became formally recognized as the DEI Taskforce for which I became a Co-chair. As the advocacy of this committee grew, I was invited to Co-chair on Strategic Planning, a sub-committee dedicated to Strategic Planning goals relating to DEI. After five years of work, I am proud to say that our team hired a DEI officer this year and the DEI office on campus is becoming a reality! And as a teacher, I continue to instruct a diverse group of students. At JCCC this also includes teaching a wide age-range. As an example, I once had a class within which the oldest student was 78 and the youngest was 17. As faculty, diversity in an art class broadens the student experience so very much! Projects rendered are significantly stronger and express deeper understanding of the human condition as a result.
As an artist my work consistently reflects social and political themes relating to DEI. For example, in 2021, I exhibited a project entitled On Being: Maiden, Mother, Crone. This project was one that I founded, facilitated, and implemented out of a desire to express the link between women as we live, create, and mentor through generational connection and lived experiences. This exhibition reflected on the experiences of women as they age, the societal expectations of women at various points of their lives, and the marginalization and oppression of women throughout each phase.
Currently, I am working on two projects with the following working titles: Daily Commute, and Through Our Eyes. Daily Commute will be a solo exhibition of videos, video installations, and photographs scheduled to open August 2024. This body of work uses Queer Theory to question society’s linear thinking of time, as well as patriarchal expectations of how we spend our time. Then, coming full circle for me, Through Our Eyes is an experimental documentary within which I am teaching adult people with Down Syndrome how to shoot video and sound. I’m giving them prompts to help focus on self-expression as they shoot, and then we will join back in the studio for editing footage. As with things like Victoria’s Secrets recent ad campaign featuring a young woman with Down Syndrome, it has become almost a trend to aim cameras at this community. With this project, my hope is that the documentary will be a film of the participants’ making more than mine. The intent with this work is to aid them in telling their own story instead of me telling it for them. And while I am currently working with individuals in Kansas City, I have connections in Tennessee and Georgia that will allow for the project’s continuation should I move.
As a teacher, I strive to remember how I felt as a student every time I enter the classroom. I remember what it was like as a Queer, working-class, first generation, non-traditional college student working to succeed while balancing efforts with motherhood, struggling with financial hardship, and fighting with family who de-valued higher education and the arts. Yet, I also remember the first time a professor showed me the photography of Catherine Opie, Carrie Mae Weems, and Renee Cox. I remember seeing films such as “Sink or Swim” by Su Friedrich, “Tarnation” by Jonathan Caouette, and the video diaries of Sadie Benning in class for the first time. And I remember what it was like being introduced to the writings of Michael Foucault, Judith Butler, Donna Haraway, and Rosi Braidotti. These experiences birthed my belief that it is paramount to show students that they can belong in this field, and that their voice is important to this work. This is aided by showing students work by successful artist, filmmakers, and writers that look like they do, that have similar demographics and identities as they do, and that share common concerns as they have.
In a more practical sense, classroom management must facilitate inclusion. Therefore, I rarely allow students to pick their own groups and instead use techniques to randomly sort the class into groups, and then change the randomly selected groups as often as possible. These tactics prevent cliques from readily developing and help foster the inclusion of all. Further, it should be noted that Filmmaking remains a male-dominated field. Early in my teaching I observed that, left to their own devices, groups will typically assign a woman to be “secretary,” to take notes, and to keep everyone organized; men in the group will take leadership roles such as Director or Producer. For this reason, I tend to assign roles and specifically offer leadership opportunities to individuals from marginalized demographics. Moreover, I include in lectures topics such as ethical considerations in filmmaking, and effects of microaggressions; and I emphasize the importance of kindness, empathy, and empowerment in critique.
All in all, we know that diversity, equity, and inclusion are of significant importance. These things create empathy, aide in critical thinking, and serve in the betterment of humanity overall. For those in the arts, it also ensures that we make, and teach students to make, meaningful work. Experience with diverse peers fosters understanding of differing perspectives. Equity allows everyone the opportunity to find and utilize their strengths. And inclusion offers the chance for each voice to be heard. Looking back on my personal experiences, I acknowledge that I am a product resulting from experiences of marginalization and oppression, but also of celebrations of diversity. As such, and in general, I work to have these experiences be beneficial to students, colleagues, campus, and society by living a life of empathy and exemplifying values that appreciate diversity, advocate for equity, and foster inclusion in everything I do.
I was starting on one such project with my brother when I found the graduate studios doors spray-painted with text reading, “Dyke Bar” and “Gay Bar.” I had recently come out as part of the Queer community and this graffiti felt like an invasion of a sanctuary. Art school was the place where I had previously been able to take risks in my practice. It previously felt like a safe space to create work about the oppression of people with differing abilities, while exploring my own sexual identity. I was shaken, and no longer felt free to openly explore. To make matters worse, I was asked by faculty to wash the text off, but I refused. It was important to me that whoever had spray painted those words not see someone from their targeted community laboring to clean it up. Instead, I sought to appropriate what they had done and use it to empower others.
That night, my partner suggested I consider this experience a new commonality with my brother. He had suffered ridicule his entire life, but this sort of direct attack was somewhat new to me. Before this event, marginalization for me came through a lens of being a woman from a working-class family, and from the experiences of being a first-generation college student. Yet, I had also been sheltered by the unearned privileges of being white, cis-gendered, and presumed straight. This event changed everything about my work as a creator and academic. I began studies in Women, Gender, and Sexuality in addition to Filmmaking and Photography, I focused research efforts on the effects of marginalization and intersectionality, and I created videos and installations grounded in socio-political intent conceptually based on knowledge gained from those subjects.
Since that time long ago in graduate school, Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion (DEI) initiatives have remained forefront in my work as an academic, teacher, artist, and human. While teaching at Georgia Southwestern State University (GSW), I served as the Director of the Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies (WGSS) program. As the Director of WGSS, I coordinated events ranging from performances of The Vagina Monologues, a campus “Slut Walk,” a “Take Back the Night” 5K race and fundraiser, and a V-Day dance off. One specific event that I am particularly proud of was a performance of Bodies. Faculty, staff, and students wrote personal accounts in the style of The Vagina Monologues and performed them in our experimental theater. As part of the event, my partner and I wrote and performed for Bodies, and I exhibited a solo show in the Fine Arts gallery. The Fine Arts building was filled to capacity for the opening, with standing room only in the theater. Also, at GSW, I was one of the President-appointed faculty to serve on the Diversity, Equity, and Inclusion taskforce, was the adviser for the Queer / Straight Alliance, and taught a diverse student body which included people from lower socioeconomic standings, minority races and ethnicities, and various gender identities and sexualities. Finally, my passion for DEI led to the completion of a graduate certificate in Women, Gender, and Sexuality Studies at Georgia State University in 2016 just before taking my current position with Johnson County Community College (JCCC).
At JCCC I have continued work and advocacy in DEI. Beginning in 2017, I joined colleagues across campus to petition the college for a DEI office. This initial group became formally recognized as the DEI Taskforce for which I became a Co-chair. As the advocacy of this committee grew, I was invited to Co-chair on Strategic Planning, a sub-committee dedicated to Strategic Planning goals relating to DEI. After five years of work, I am proud to say that our team hired a DEI officer this year and the DEI office on campus is becoming a reality! And as a teacher, I continue to instruct a diverse group of students. At JCCC this also includes teaching a wide age-range. As an example, I once had a class within which the oldest student was 78 and the youngest was 17. As faculty, diversity in an art class broadens the student experience so very much! Projects rendered are significantly stronger and express deeper understanding of the human condition as a result.
As an artist my work consistently reflects social and political themes relating to DEI. For example, in 2021, I exhibited a project entitled On Being: Maiden, Mother, Crone. This project was one that I founded, facilitated, and implemented out of a desire to express the link between women as we live, create, and mentor through generational connection and lived experiences. This exhibition reflected on the experiences of women as they age, the societal expectations of women at various points of their lives, and the marginalization and oppression of women throughout each phase.
Currently, I am working on two projects with the following working titles: Daily Commute, and Through Our Eyes. Daily Commute will be a solo exhibition of videos, video installations, and photographs scheduled to open August 2024. This body of work uses Queer Theory to question society’s linear thinking of time, as well as patriarchal expectations of how we spend our time. Then, coming full circle for me, Through Our Eyes is an experimental documentary within which I am teaching adult people with Down Syndrome how to shoot video and sound. I’m giving them prompts to help focus on self-expression as they shoot, and then we will join back in the studio for editing footage. As with things like Victoria’s Secrets recent ad campaign featuring a young woman with Down Syndrome, it has become almost a trend to aim cameras at this community. With this project, my hope is that the documentary will be a film of the participants’ making more than mine. The intent with this work is to aid them in telling their own story instead of me telling it for them. And while I am currently working with individuals in Kansas City, I have connections in Tennessee and Georgia that will allow for the project’s continuation should I move.
As a teacher, I strive to remember how I felt as a student every time I enter the classroom. I remember what it was like as a Queer, working-class, first generation, non-traditional college student working to succeed while balancing efforts with motherhood, struggling with financial hardship, and fighting with family who de-valued higher education and the arts. Yet, I also remember the first time a professor showed me the photography of Catherine Opie, Carrie Mae Weems, and Renee Cox. I remember seeing films such as “Sink or Swim” by Su Friedrich, “Tarnation” by Jonathan Caouette, and the video diaries of Sadie Benning in class for the first time. And I remember what it was like being introduced to the writings of Michael Foucault, Judith Butler, Donna Haraway, and Rosi Braidotti. These experiences birthed my belief that it is paramount to show students that they can belong in this field, and that their voice is important to this work. This is aided by showing students work by successful artist, filmmakers, and writers that look like they do, that have similar demographics and identities as they do, and that share common concerns as they have.
In a more practical sense, classroom management must facilitate inclusion. Therefore, I rarely allow students to pick their own groups and instead use techniques to randomly sort the class into groups, and then change the randomly selected groups as often as possible. These tactics prevent cliques from readily developing and help foster the inclusion of all. Further, it should be noted that Filmmaking remains a male-dominated field. Early in my teaching I observed that, left to their own devices, groups will typically assign a woman to be “secretary,” to take notes, and to keep everyone organized; men in the group will take leadership roles such as Director or Producer. For this reason, I tend to assign roles and specifically offer leadership opportunities to individuals from marginalized demographics. Moreover, I include in lectures topics such as ethical considerations in filmmaking, and effects of microaggressions; and I emphasize the importance of kindness, empathy, and empowerment in critique.
All in all, we know that diversity, equity, and inclusion are of significant importance. These things create empathy, aide in critical thinking, and serve in the betterment of humanity overall. For those in the arts, it also ensures that we make, and teach students to make, meaningful work. Experience with diverse peers fosters understanding of differing perspectives. Equity allows everyone the opportunity to find and utilize their strengths. And inclusion offers the chance for each voice to be heard. Looking back on my personal experiences, I acknowledge that I am a product resulting from experiences of marginalization and oppression, but also of celebrations of diversity. As such, and in general, I work to have these experiences be beneficial to students, colleagues, campus, and society by living a life of empathy and exemplifying values that appreciate diversity, advocate for equity, and foster inclusion in everything I do.
Tonia Indigo Hughes (and my brother, Bud)