This article, written for the MACAS (Mathematics and its Connections to the Arts and Sciences) conference, introduces the theme of “circular movements of healing” through mathematics, arts, and craft. The authors bring together a series of collaborative projects - intergenerational labyrinth-making, fabric sculpting to explore curvature, embodied geometry in a spiral playground, ceramic practice-based research, crafting artifacts as collective “matters of care,” and learning from the circular structure of Capoeira - to examine what it means to work across disciplinary boundaries in slower, more embodied, and affective ways. They argue that efforts to integrate math with arts and craft often run up against institutional expectations and rigid views of mathematics, and they call for transdisciplinary spaces that attend to fear, alienation, embodiment, materiality, dialogue, and social justice as part of reimagining how mathematics can be experienced and learned
It was honestly hard to pare down my “stops” this week because each project felt unique, offering a slightly different entry point into what math could be. I took the course this summer that allowed me to virtually attend the MACAS conference, and I really appreciated the openness of ideas and willingness to rethink mathematics. My first stop was reading about Susan and Cynthia’s labyrinth work (which we’ve watched videos about in other courses). After last week’s reading, where students in a college liberal math class chose their own focus, I saw the parallel, this community chose labyrinths as their way into mathematics and as a way to confront math fear. There’s something powerful about allowing learners to make choices that matter to them. I was also reminded of a podcast I listened to this week about how differently our students are being raised - they are encouraged to advocate and think critically. They want to understand why they are doing the math we ask of them. I remembered my own students being fascinated by a labyrinth at a nearby church and could see how that could be a meaningful entry point. I was curious about why there was a labyrinth at a church, When I looked it up, I learned that a labyrinth isn’t a maze with dead ends but a single winding path to the center and back out again. It is a purposeful, reflective journey, and several churches have a long relationship with having labyrinths.
“By engaging with art in ways that honours these subtleties, learners and educators can cultivate a mindset that appreciates complexity, embraces uncertainty, and recognizes the creative potential inherent in chance. Experiences shaped through such practice can inspire learners to overcome hesitation, take initiative, make thoughtful choices, and grow, ultimately contributing to the transformation of their learning communities.
My second stop was in the section on ceramic sculpture and the idea of navigating real risks - collapses, cracks, unexpected outcomes - but how clay as a medium actually invites play, experimentation, and risk-taking. That immediately made me think of our push toward whiteboards and non-permanent surfaces in math classrooms to lower the stakes and encourage that same kind of intellectual risk. At the same time, it made me think about the downsizing of dedicated art, music, and shop classes. Fewer students get sustained opportunities to work deeply with materials like clay or instruments, and classroom teachers are often trying to compensate with limited supplies and support. I found myself wondering what we lose, not just artistically but mathematically, when students have fewer chances to engage materially, take risks, and learn through making.
“Could one radically re-imagine a mathematics department that is built around openness regarding epistemological and ontological approaches?”
My final stop was in the closing section where the authors discuss themes across the projects and return to the idea of re-imagining our institutions. This connects so clearly to the thread we’ve been following since our first curriculum course - questioning the structures we work within and asking what might be possible if we truly loosened them. The discussion of slow science and the values of slow practice in arts and design stood out to me. Rather than prioritizing efficiency, coverage, and acceleration, the authors point toward embodied making, intergenerational learning, material engagement, and time for resonance. It feels like a reminder that if we want different outcomes in mathematics education, we may need to rethink not only classroom practices, but the institutional rhythms and values that shape them. I feel like this course is really completing the circle we started.Returning to the questions we began with about curriculum, institutions, and what mathematics could become, but now with deeper language, broader perspectives, and a greater willingness to imagine something different.
There is a lot of friction for me between the theory we are learning and the practical realities and constraints of the school as an institution. Certainly the philosophy that learning takes time and the beautiful ideas expressed by the Chronaki piece are at odds with the list of things in the curriculum documents that students must be proficient in by the end of the year. Sometimes it feels overwhelming and impossible. I appreciate Susan's attitude of "just add one thing per term".
ReplyDeleteI am inspired by your post to seek out ways to connect labyrinths with my math classes. I learned somewhat recently about labyrinths being intended to provide space for meditation and reflection. It is interesting because the make me feel anxious! Maybe this is my math baggage revealing itself. I probably think of the labyrinth as a maze that I must escape from by finding the right answer (and fast!). This is so much like a math problem on a test, isn't it. But turns out, labyrinths are simply meant to help us slow down and have a bit of quiet and alone space for peaceful reflection. They are spaces for discovering and thinking, not for solving.
Hi Nicole and Kristie, I like both of your thoughts on labyrinths. When I first thought of a labyrinth, the idea of being present came to me. I guess one of the reasons that students love the labyrinth is because they can be present, find and explore the path. You have to walk and then discover the correct path --- which is similar to math: you have to try and then get the right answer. It is okay to get lost, it is okay to detour, and there may be multiple ways/approaches to the final destination.
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