Drawn Together Through Visual Practice

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Drawn Together Through Visual Practice Page 27

by Brandy Agerbeck


  J: Well, to understand this better, I reached out to a couple of visionaries in the facilitation field here. Laura Hsu, a reputable facilitator in Taiwan, reflected with me on her earliest memories of graphic recording. She first saw it during several seminars that used the World Café1 process—that included graphic harvesting techniques—and also during an International Association of Facilitators (IAF) conference back in the 2000s, where the Grove methodology2 was showing up. Several Asian facilitators brought their learnings back to Taiwan and applied them in the social and public sector. By 2005, graphic recording had also made its way to Taiwan.

  Jayce Pei Yu Lee Interviewed by Kelvy Bird • Bridging on the Rise

  Another piece of the puzzle comes from Xiankai Zang, a visual thinking practitioner based in Shengzhen, China. In the early days, he was using mind-mapping for work and internal trainings, then discovered the term “graphic facilitation” by chance in 2007 when searching on the internet and finding Jay Cross’s book Informal Learning. In Jay’s blog, two names were mentioned: Dave Gray and David Sibbet (whose book Zang has since translated). He began to apply these new discoveries within his own organization. This created strong ripple effects among his peers.

  Zang attended an IAF conference in 2012 and hosted a workshop themed “Use of visual metaphor to talk, listen and co-create,” also applying the concepts within the education sector. According to Zang, the core value of visuals is to provide a tangible and well-grounded co-sharing space for all. Currently he is working on decoding ancient literature such as the Great Learning, Confucian Analects, and I-Ching with visual elements and metaphors.3

  K: And where do you now sense the practice is going?

  J: The advance of modern technology, social networks, and social media have made our connection to each other more robust and tenacious than ever. There are two groups with organic growth approaches that demonstrate this.

  Visual Thinking Development Center (VTC), established and initiated in Beijing in 2014, is a grassroots, self-organized social network dedicated and devoted to spreading the visibility and accessibility of visual thinking and its application. Cofounded by May Yang and a couple of friends, it’s a cross-sector public platform that also focuses on integrating work and life, by offering online-offline networking and learning workshops. It provides an open, fun and knowledge-based environment, with more than 6,000 followers across China. And the numbers keep rising!

  ReaDrawing, founded by MuMu in Shanghai, is the first and only self-organized social network in China that digs into the essence of books through drawing. Readers map out the content of a book through their own visual interpretation, making reading an accessible, curious, and fun process. The network’s intention and ambition is to revolutionize the way we read by expanding the depth of the reading process.

  Certification: To C or not to C

  K: We have talked in the past about the enthusiasm in Asia around certification. Can you share a bit about that now?

  J: The big C—Certification—of any kind is indeed in popular demand and a current trend in China, as I have experienced. Certification gives someone a sense of approval and qualification. It can be designed into training classes. The paper itself is proof of only one part of a practice, though. It’s really a personal choice about how we are part of the bigger Visual Ecosystem.

  Ms. Bubble is the founder of Visual-Bubble, a creative company that originated in Holland and now provides visual facilitation trainings and certified workshops in China. She is one of the leaders in the region and advocates setting up industry standards, especially for visual practitioners. Her high-profile exposure in social media and involvement in IFVP (International Forum of Visual Practitioners) has served as one of the strongest currents in the river of change within the visual ecosystem in China.

  Another current worth mentioning relates certification to education. Tikka Hun cofounded Tak-Tik.com, a company based in Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia, and has built multi-lingual proficiency and capacity in the region. This has formed up a solid network of Asian graphic recorders scribing in both English and Chinese.

  It’s easy to fall into the trap of judgment, though, when looking only through a lens of “certified” or “uncertified.” As individuals, we need to be mindful about the legitimacy of a “good” or “bad,” “professional” or “unprofessional.” If we could see this from a wider scope, we could fully embrace the development of all diversities, moving toward a “yes, and” mindset and opening up room for growth, for individuals to learn and to explore at their own pace.

  K: Do you think clients would more likely hire those with certification or without?

  J: I’m not sure. Trust is an important factor, too. Client’s recognition, and their recommendation, is a form of certification. There is a network of people, and we refer each other, because we trust each other to add value.

  Jayce Pei Yu Lee Interviewed by Kelvy Bird • Bridging on the Rise

  The role of bridging

  J: There is a need for our visual community, because of language barriers and because of the firewall in China. Having practitioners with international experience is very helpful to cultivate the soil of learning.

  K: I see. In a way, then, facilitators help close a divide, a gap, between what is happening internationally and in China?

  J: Yes, exactly. China is a huge entity. Even if we were to cultivate visual practice in only one city in China, it’s like developing a whole other continent that can be connected to the visual world. The potential to bring diversity into the practice is huge for our community.

  K: You and I met in Tianjin, in 2010, as part of a team working with the Value Web4. I still remember how moving it was to watch you from the back of the room, scribing in Mandarin, using a headset that translated English and Chinese inputs. I didn’t understand at all what you were drawing, and it didn’t matter. In that moment, watching you scribe bilingually, you opened a whole other world of possibility for me.

  J: Often, we are not aware of a gap in understanding until we see something new and unfamiliar, and then the need arises to bring the newness into our existing picture of reality.

  As you speak about the bilingual part, listening to one language and drawing in another, I was reminded of a recent experience in Egypt, watching the scribes work in Arabic, drawing from right to left. And I felt a connection, too, even though I did not know that language.

  Visuals bring out the essence of connection, of human-to-human connection. And that is really precious in these times.

  Even though we have the language and cultural barriers—the divides—as soon as we grab markers and try to communicate by drawing a picture, that triggers a dialog, a curiosity, a wanting to understand. Something like that is universal. Something I see happening now in China is visuals prompting an eagerness to learn, to find out more. The expansion can be overwhelming. But when we slow down we can ask, “What does that mean? What do I need to do with this? What is next?”

  Multi-lingual expression

  K: Your ability to scribe bilingually seems like such a strong advantage in the profession. What is your experience of this?

  J: In the beginning, I still had a conversion process: English to Chinese. But as I have done more of the work, it has become a faster process. Drawing in Chinese, in Mandarin, with traditional or simplified characters—this is the most comfortable place for me. I have done more and more work recently in local languages, in my mother-tongue.

  Writing one word in Mandarin takes time. There is a lot to condense into a recognizable term, or phrase, which is another kind of synthesis in addition to already synthesizing the content.

  K: How is scribing different when you are writing with Mandarin characters?

  There is quite a lot of room for expression. Some words, the form of the words themselves, and the characters themselves, can
be very expressive with the thickness of lines, even with just a stroke. For my writing I embed a lot of calligraphy, which is part of the culture.

  Jayce Pei Yu Lee Interviewed by Kelvy Bird • Bridging on the Rise

  K: Can you tell me about your background, to better understand the connection between the tradition of calligraphy and your practice of scribing?

  J: When I was in primary school, my parents always pushed me to study calligraphy. It was painful at the time, but looking back I realize it set up the foundation of what I do today. My dad was an English teacher, and he could write English letters very beautifully, and my mom too. When I was nine or ten, I would just watch my dad and I would draw alongside him. I still have a vivid memory of that, the freedom of just drawing on the paper in a form that I could not recognize.

  Our family moved to New Zealand for educational purposes, and I had an opportunity to take art classes, and then attend art school. My major was typographic design. But when I moved back to Taiwan, there was no such profession. I tried different jobs involving graphics and retail. I experienced an up-and-down and an in-and-out of design fields, and then I met the Value Web in 2010. That was the first time I saw this graphic facilitation practice. It felt like a new frontier.

  K: The story of your father is quite touching, and leads me to recognize a parallel of your watching him, in a language you did not know, and my watching you when we first met—and finding a certain curiosity and liberation through observing new language, in new form.

  Personal style and vulnerability

  K: Again in a specifically Asian context, can you speak to the role of personal style?

  J: More diverse influence will help people realize the possibility of finding their niche and their own expression and style. Interpretation matters, and finding what’s meaningful for each of us is crucial. We don’t need anyone’s approval aside from our own. Style is a matter of self-confidence.

  K: From where I sit, in Cambridge, Massachusetts, I see the rise of visual practice in Asia occurring with an almost fearless swell of confidence. It does not seem to me that fear is in the way of people learning and experimenting.

  Maybe that is a sign of progress and growth. When someone first starts scribing, they feel a great sense of achievement; they are seen alongside their work, and the visibility contributes to their confidence. But with more experience and knowledge, we can also let ourselves be more vulnerable.

  In a fast-growing environment like the current China, where being strong and speedy are worshiped by definition, to slow down and be vulnerable can be easily dismissed. But this is where the creativity is born, where rules are for reference and are meant to be iterated.

  The Great Learning

  K: I have always admired the drawing of yours that weaves the ancient Confucian philosophy in with Theory U. How is this relevant in visual practice?

  J: In Chinese philosophy, the seven steps of the Great Learning5—one of the four books in Confucianism—astonishingly coincide with the path of Scharmer’s Theory U. I have had the pleasure to scribe for Peter Senge as he pointed out this homogeneity. In summary “awareness—knowing where to stop—calmness—deep quietness and stillness—grace of being—true thinking—attainment.”

  There is something about past and emerging future. There is something about slowing down and taking a breath to consider the meaning of information. The thinking informs producing quality work, with reflection, to allow what is being said to happen in its time.

  知止而後有定

  When you know where to stop, you have stability.

  定而後能靜

  When you have stability, you can be tranquil.

  靜而後能安

  When you are tranquil, you can be at ease.

  安而後能慮

  When you are at ease, you can deliberate.

  慮而後能得

  When you can deliberate, you can attain your aims.

  Jayce Pei Yu Lee Interviewed by Kelvy Bird • Bridging on the Rise

  Visual ecosystems

  K: You mentioned the term “visual ecosystem” earlier. Can you expand on this?

  J: Right now, the groups I mentioned—each circle—are operating at their own pace, and I haven’t yet seen much dialog between these circles.

  K: This seems like another example of a call for bridging, like we were talking about earlier, where with more pockets or clusters of people trying to share the practice, the more bridging is required between the groups. We don’t know the constellation that exists within the space, until we start to see some points of light.

  J: Hm. Yes. That is a very appropriate metaphor. And each star is already functioning and contributing, like seeds, to help the other seeds. Whatever we each do, we are all contributing to the greater benefit, the greater good.

  K: Anything in conclusion?

  J: Let’s have a book tour in Asia! Let’s help people have a first-hand experience of the messages shared in these pages. More bridging!

  In the West, in Europe or the States, graphic facilitation is a very mature and developed practice. In countries like Japan, Korea, and other Asian countries—this all can be much further explored. Maybe that can be part of the second edition of this book.

  Photo by: IDEAS China 3.0 Program, GITI Group UID Foundation

  K: As visual practitioners, we are helping people see, and we don’t always see what is right in front of us, what the full puzzle looks like. Thank you for helping us to understand more of the pieces.

  J: Yes, yes. You are very welcome!

  JAYCE PEI YU LEE is big at heart, small in size, organic in spirit. In between her works and travel, she enjoys the outdoors, cooking, and being at home with her dog Magic Maggie. She is also a member of the Value Web and one of the fellow travelers of Theory U. [email protected][email protected]

  References

  The World Café process, developed by Juanita Brown and David Isaacs of Mill Valley, California, USA in 1995, is a globally-recognized methodology that brings together groups of stakeholders to engage in generative conversation. More here: www.theworldcafe.com

  The Grove Consultants International is a consultancy company, founded in 1977 by David Sibbet, based in San Francisco, California, USA. More here: www.grove.com

  For more information: zangxiankai.blog.sohu.com

  The Value Web is an international, member-based affiliation that designs and delivers collaborative engagements for leaders and organizations around the world. More at: www.thevalueweb.org

  The Great Learning was one of the “Four Books” in Confucianism. More here: en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Great_Learning

  When We Cannot

  See the Future, Where Do We Begin?

  Bob Stilger

  By now, dear readers, you are hopefully wowed, inspired, confused, and invited by this amazing collection of essays. Many of us know that for the new to emerge, we have to get people out of their heads and into their bodies and hearts. For me, this is what visual practice is really all about.

  My dancing is rigid, my singing off-key, my drawing blocky. I write here not as a visual practitioner, but as one who needs them as partners in what I do!

  I help people listen to each other to find new pathways forward. I’m a conversation host, a facilitator and a thinking partner. My community-based work began in the mid-seventies when I cofounded Northwest Regional Facilitators in Spokane. After 25 years at NRF, as this century began, my focus turned to the global south with The Berkana Institute for 10 years. For the last six years through NewStories, most of my work has been in Japan, especially deep and intense experience with people and communities after the devastating triple disasters of March 11, 2011.

  This last arc of work in Japan has made me much more
aware of how fragile our lives are, particularly in this age when so much is self-destructing and so much new is being born. In 2015, Eiji Press in Tokyo published my book about my work in Japan (the English edition will follow soon). The title, When We Cannot See the Future, Where Do We Begin?, has been a continuing teacher for me and provides the jumping-off point for this essay.

  What do we do when the future disappears? In the blink of an eye and the flow of an unbidden tear, the life we thought we knew is just gone. Showing up to work and being told the company is closing and your job is over. Listening as the doctor tells you you have an incurable disease. Returning home and finding a note from your spouse saying he’s left—permanently. Hearing on the news that your child’s school is under attack. Watching as the ocean’s water recedes into quiet and then the roar of a tsunami.

  What do we do? How do we proceed? What will inform and guide us as we begin to make sense of our shattered lives? These are times when visual practice is especially important. The future has gone dark. We can’t see it. Visual practice opens our eyes to current moment and helps us find our next steps. It helps us remember what’s important and to turn to those around us to use what we already have to create what comes after now, today.

  My own sensitivity to working with the unknown and the uncertain have been heightened by my work in Japan. A deep, personal relationship with Japan that began when I was a student in 1970 led to an immediate sense of I must go and help after the triple disasters of March 11, 2011. At 2:45 in the afternoon an astonishing earthquake with a 9.0 magnitude shook the northeast coast of Japan. Forty-five minutes later, a tsunami traveling at speeds up to 60 miles an hour and at a height of 50 feet inundated the coastal area. The next day the nuclear reactors started to explode at the Fukushima Dai Ichi power plant. Nearly 20,000 people died and more than 500,000 lost their homes or jobs or both. Across all of Japan, lives and dreams were shattered and a door opened towards an invisible future.

 

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