An entanglement: How my professional identity as an educator and researcher embodies the creative arts therapist

Elvira Kalenjuk

Abstract 

A master-level qualification in creative arts therapy (CAT) offers practitioners transferable skills that can be successfully recruited across fields to create potent interdisciplinary practices. This study explores how my CAT training influenced my professional identity in the tangential fields of teaching and research. The study was guided by autoethnography and phenomenology for data generation and analysis. The findings indicate that CAT training has informed my professional identity as expressed ontologically. The embodied nature of the art therapy learnings is presented as entangled, such as the natural inclination for the use of creative methods across both teaching and research work.

Keywords

Art therapy, autoethnography, dysgraphia, interdisciplinary practice, phenomenology, teaching, professional identity

Introduction

Postgraduates of creative arts therapy (CAT) programs are afforded unique skillsets in working with others in ways that reflect a model of art therapy facilitated by the process of art-making (McNiff, 2016). This approach recognises the act of art-making as a means of communication and self-growth through creativity and agency (McNiff, 2016). In my work as a primary-school teacher and educational researcher, I notice how the art-based approaches I employ in my work derive from the philosophical, theoretical, and practical underpinnings of my master’s degree in CAT. This has been especially true in my doctoral research in education with child participants diagnosed with a writing disability, dysgraphia (Kalenjuk, 2024). As a consequence, studies in CAT can offer practitioners a versatile and transferable skillset that can be implemented in other social settings or workplaces to create potent interdisciplinary creative practices. In this study, I explore how the intensive CAT training has influenced and informed my professional identities in the tangential fields of education and research.

In this paper, CAT refers to a professional practice that involves using a range of art modalities (e.g., visual or performing arts), creativity, and the creative process as the primary means of expression, communication, and healing in the context of a therapeutic relationship (Scope et al., 2017). The practice of CAT is centred around individuals or groups and encourages the use of art-making as means of expression to fully leverage the creative process and its therapeutic benefits (McNiff, 2016). This art-making, person-centric approach falls within a human rights agenda that strives for building capacity through self-determination (Leif et al., 2023; Rogers, 2016). From this perspective, CAT aligns more closely with expressive art therapies than other types of art therapies that originate from, for instance, psychotherapy or the medical model (McNiff, 2016; Rogers, 2016). However, it should be noted that other arts therapists might conceptualise CAT in alternative ways. For instance, Kapitan et al. (2011) consider CAT as encompassing community-based art practices and healing rituals that have been adapted to align with the distinct cultural contexts and historical background of specific communities.

Regardless of the approach, an arts therapist requires high levels of training to foster respectful and ethical therapeutic engagements necessary for the clinical treatment of, or emotional growth from, ill health or trauma (Scope et al., 2017). In certain instances, CAT can be accessed for wide-ranging purposes, including to support learning or development, or as a response to individual or social challenges (Jones, 2020). Uniquely, a master’s level qualification in CAT offers more than clinical or therapeutic orientation. It can also provide a dynamic, versatile, and flexible skillset to graduating practitioners, as well as fostering a particular type of sensibility unique to artists and creatives alike (Slayton et al., 2010). Furthermore, CAT coursework that engages culturally sensitive approaches offers valuable insights and practical guidance for effective practices with diverse client populations (Kapitan et al., 2011; Malchiodi, 2003). These skills and sensibilities can be transferred across fields to action extraordinary and meaningful interdisciplinary practices (Nissen, 2019).

The field of CAT, for example, marries well with the education of young children to facilitate growth and learning through art-based modalities and practices (Dunn-Snow & D'Amelio, 2000; Karkou, 1999). I have applied my knowledge of CAT to the field of education as a 20-year veteran primary-school teacher, as well as in education research, in ways that have been ubiquitous and impactful (see Kalenjuk et al., 2022; Kalenjuk et al., 2023). This is despite graduating from the CAT program almost two decades ago, and only practising as a creative arts therapist on a handful of occasions. Suffice to say that I have worked largely as a teacher and academic, yet CAT has been a powerful ally across my professional work in teaching and research, including with neurodiverse young people.

As I continue to use the skills and strategies that I acquired in the CAT program across tangential fields and professions, I wanted to explore how CAT ideas have infiltrated my professional roles within the field of education. More precisely, I am interested in the entanglement of CAT as an ontological (nature of being) expression, as the CAT methods seem to seep naturally into the crevices of my professional life in spaces other-than-CAT. In this study, ontology refers to a view of reality, existence, and being, as contrasted to epistemology, which denotes knowledge acquisition (Lindsay, 2021). The term ‘entanglement’ is used to depict the interconnectedness, symbiosis, and interdependence of being, or oneself, with the world (Vagle, 2018; Vagle & Hofsess, 2016). Thus, this paper asks, “How does my creative arts therapy training influence and inform my professional identity?”

Professional identities as a teacher and researcher

The definition of identity is strongly debated in academic circles, so it is important to be clear about what it means herein, especially attached to the qualifier ‘professional’ (Beijaard et al., 2004; Yuval-Davis, 2010). Wiles (2013) argues that professional identity does not have a singular meaning but can be constructed through the development of personal self-awareness when engaged in professional practice. In a teaching context, scholars contend that there are three defining characteristics of teacher professional identity: (1) the subject they teach (especially in secondary schools), (2) their teaching role/s, and (3) their relationships with students (Beijaard, 1995). In this paper, the term ‘professional identity’ refers to a construction derived from personal narratives of, or stories about, professional practice that show one’s individuality. Moreover, the construction of identity is inescapably underpinned by one’s values, beliefs, assumptions, and experiences, as well as informed by social and cultural influences (Beijaard et al., 2004).

Personal narratives often carry unique importance for individuals and can reveal particular ontological orientations (Nigar, 2020). For example, if a teacher chooses to enter the teaching profession to inspire the next generation, it may reveal an ontological orientation related to the teacher’s views about the inherent worth and potential of young people in advancing social prosperity (Beijaard, 1995). These personal stories are often also shaped by identity markers (i.e., race, class, gender, sex, culture, and/or religion) (Jacobson & Mustafa, 2019). These markers can offer contextual clues about one’s identity or positionalities as influenced by social, historical, or cultural factors, or stereotyping (Jacobson & Mustafa, 2019; Nigar, 2020; Yuval-Davis, 2010). Similarly, the author’s gaze situates the individual within the world through such positions, whether explicitly stated or otherwise (Yuval-Davis, 2010). Moreover, scholars largely agree that descriptions of one’s own identity are generally not static, but rather fluid, transient, altered, or dynamic (Beijaard et al., 2004).

This is not the first iteration of exploring the permeation of my CAT training as an ever-present or evanescent aspect of my own intersectional identity. By intersectional, I refer to the work of Crenshaw (1989), who has long recognised how multiple self-identities operate, usually in tandem or conflict, to create conditions of compounding privilege or oppression. To explore my researcher identity, I previously wrote an autoethnographic account, which provided a catalyst for this study (Kalenjuk et al., 2022).

To elaborate on this previous study, I used the creative process to explore my researcher identity as a prelude to working with participants, especially children, parents, and teachers (Kalenjuk et al., 2022). This was important for delineating the parts of myself that also identified as a parent and teacher, so as not to blur the narratives of participants with my own (Norton & Early, 2011). To begin the process, I moved through a series of art-making exercises, such as drawing, painting, and journaling, until I landed on a well-traversed exercise of making an “identity box” (Awan & Gauntlett, 2013, p. 116). In general, this type of work involves showing the parts of oneself that are visible on the outside of the box – and the hidden parts of oneself on the inside (Awan & Gauntlett, 2013).

As I recognised my own multi-hyphenate identities as teacher-mother-researcher-arts therapist-etcetera, I gathered a collection of recycled boxes from around my home. These boxes were centralised in my art-making space and their arrangement on the table invited an integrated box construction, rather than making individual identity boxes. As I moved through the creative process, I constructed an “urban edifice” that reflected parts of my life through powerful metaphorical representations and reflections (Kalenjuk et al., 2022, p.7). These reflections offered a meaning-making opportunity. As a result, I was able to generate new knowledge about my researcher identity, which was more accurately depicted as ‘multiple’ (Kalenjuk et al., 2022). At that time, I had only recently commenced doctoral studies in education to explore the lived experiences of dysgraphia, also known as a specific learning disorder (SLD) in writing. This paper and its reflexive lens will mark the end of this doctorate process as I further explore the permeation of CAT beyond my studies.

My doctoral thesis in education focused on exploring the lived experiences of dysgraphia, which has been an important contribution to the field of neurodiversity (Kalenjuk, 2024). In Australia, dysgraphia refers to SLD in written expression (American Psychiatric Association, 2013; AUSPELD, 2014). Globally, there is much debate about the precise definition of dysgraphia, especially since the diagnostic and statistical manual removed the term in one of its updated iterations (American Psychiatric Association, 2013). Consequently, several scholars consider dysgraphia in its broadest sense, referring to any significant difficulties in writing, such as ideation, handwriting, composition, or spelling (Chung & Patel, 2015). Others refer to dysgraphia in a narrower view, meaning a handwriting-only disability, also known as a motor-based dysgraphia (Berninger et al., 2015; Berninger, 2018). Across my research, I refer to dysgraphia in an expansive way to encompass both language-based (spelling, composition) and motor-based (handwriting, typing) varieties. It is also important to differentiate diagnostic references to dysgraphia as a disorder (ergo, a deficit-based view) compared with the person-first reference to dysgraphia as unique individuals with strengths and differences (as neurodivergent) (Wilmot et al., 2023).

At the beginning of my scholarship journey, my (doctoral) supervisors encouraged me to conduct a self-study focused on exploring my researcher identity. The supervision team emphasised the value of tracing and unpacking the historical events or circumstances that led to studies in dysgraphia. This was an essential component of the qualitative, phenomenological research (discussed below) I was undertaking, as an act of ethical engagement (Vagle, 2018; Warr et al., 2016).

Typically, research involving the subjective experiences of participants compels researchers to declare their own biases as a means of transparency, and for activating a process of openness and ongoing reflexivity (Finlay, 2014). Moreover, an engagement of self-reflexivity acts to support the separation of the researchers’ accounts from those of the participants (Finlay, 2002; Roulston & Shelton, 2015).

Reflexivity in research can reveal important insights as a means of deepening research analysis and extending self-understanding, such as how one might influence the research process (Finlay, 2002). The autoethnographic study, for instance, highlighted the biases I held as a mother of a child with dysgraphia and my position as a former primary-school teacher (Kalenjuk et al., 2022). Accordingly, the study elucidated particular preferences I held for conducting dysgraphia research, and the exposé of (my)self as entangled within the research space (Kalenjuk et al., 2022). Clearly, these preferences and biases favoured children diagnosed with dysgraphia, their parents, and their teachers, echoing or mirroring aspects of my own lived history (Kalenjuk et al., 2022).

To engage a process of reflexivity in the aforementioned autoethnography, I returned to the circumstances that led me to study dysgraphia. These circumstances were largely oriented around my son, who had experienced writing difficulties from an early age. It should be noted that I sought permission from my 16-year-old son to include parts of his story herein, to which he generously agreed. To begin, during his early primary years, my son’s writing disability remained unrecognised, and it was difficult to source experts who could assist with information, assessment, or diagnosis of dysgraphia. Perhaps it was unsurprising to find inadequate support and expertise due the limited research on dysgraphia (McCloskey & Rapp, 2017). When he was in grade five, I finally found a psychiatrist who was able to diagnose the dysgraphia, which afforded him entitlements to additional school support-services and funding, as well as neuro-affirming practices that built on his strengths and interests.

During my investigations, I began to recognise that other parents had also experienced similar absence of information and specialised support services for their children with SLDs (see, for example, Bonifacci et al., 2020; Craig et al., 2016). These environmental limitations often created misunderstandings, or barriers to learning, and reduced the options for enrichment and equitable provisions (Kalenjuk et al., in press). Optimistically, there have been recent changes to a better understanding of dysgraphia and other types of SLDs, such as dyslexia (reading disorder) and dyscalculia (mathematics disorder) in Australia (cf. Department of Education and Training Victoria, 2020a; Department of Education and Training Victoria, 2020b; The Australian Federation of SPELD Associations, 2021).

However, dysgraphia often remains unrecognised, leaving students without access to interventions or accommodations necessary to support their writing development (Karande et al., 2011; Ross, 2009). Moreover, the mental and psychological impact of dysgraphia can be severe, especially without proper awareness, remediation, or compassion (Bonifacci et al., 2016; Craig et al., 2016). To add to these consequences, I was cognisant of the sensitivity required for research that involved children, especially for those with limited writing capacity and who relied on art-based methods for self-expression or communication. To this end, I recruited arts therapy methods in the study with children (see Betensky, 1995). This approach allowed the child participants to engage in research primarily using non-verbal and art-based methods in neuro-affirming ways (Nabhan & Kamel, 2021).

Researchers have espoused the benefits of arts or play therapies in supporting children with neurodivergence, including those with dysgraphia (Nabhan & Kamel, 2021; Stallings, 2022). In the context of research, art-based methods facilitated a novel and relational dynamic between the research team and participants. Moreover, the discussions with the child participants focused on the visible and tangible art processes and products, rather than the children themselves. This worked well and created a buffer around a direct interface (Hickey-Moody, 2021). To do this, I implemented phenomenological methods (Betensky, 1995).

Phenomenology

I was introduced to phenomenology in the third year of my CAT studies. Phenomenology is a philosophy that can be described as the study of phenomena (things, thoughts, experiences, sensations) as they appear in consciousness (Moran, 2002). Phenomenology upholds subjectivity as a source of knowledge, and as access to personal meaning (Moran, 2002). To illustrate, I engaged in its methodology in a minor thesis research project, in my CAT studies, to explore the phenomenon of using clay to represent the physical self during small-group studio work (Franchina, 2006). This led to a range of subjective, insightful, idiographic, and meaningful art expressions about the adult participants’ physical selves (Franchina, 2006).

A total of 23 clay art pieces were created and shared amongst the group of four adult participants for discussion and deliberation. Sample images are included here with accompanying reflective statements from the artists during individual, semi-structured interviews, see Figures 1, 2, 3, and 4 (Franchina, 2006). Research was conducted after approval from the RMIT Human Research Ethics Committee. Ethics approvals include participant permission for the author and her co-researchers to publish articles based on the disidentified data from the author's master’s thesis. A hard copy of the master’s thesis is available from the RMIT Library. To protect their identities, each participant self-selected their own pseudonym, and these deidentified names are used below. Please also note that the dimensions of the artworks were not recorded at the time of making (2006), however, each art piece was less than approximately 300 × 300 × 300mm.