The profession of an art teacher is both humbling and exalting. After years of developing one’s own voice as an artist, an art teacher must suppress the desire to pass one’s own style on to students and instead guide them through the creative experience by exposing them to several skill sets, setting mental challenges before them and instilling a passion for learning.
I often begin introductory art classes by asking students when they began to doubt themselves as artists. Most students respond with stories about an intimidating elementary school teacher or a well-meaning parent telling them that they “just didn’t get the gene.” I then share my story with them-that, as of second grade, I was “the poet” and that my best friend was “the artist.” This typecasting followed me, and my friend for that matter, all the way through my sophomore year in college. That was when I finally felt I had the permission to choose to be an artist. Even then, I did not realize that I could be both. I then encourage my students to take advantage of this generous luxury before them: a liberal arts education that affords them the time to learn a skill that will unlock their brain and allow them to be creative in any field.
The doubt is heavy at first. Students don’t believe that they are capable. They worry about their grade. I assure them that I won’t be grading them-they are responsible for grading themselves according to a mutually agreed upon rubric that examines the product, process and presentation of each exercise. Trust begins to be established through clearly defined expectations that are arrived upon by the class as a whole. The first group critique is an exciting moment, as students begin to understand the importance of using correct terminology when offering commentary to their peers. As they struggle with the balance of what they intended in their work versus what is observed by others, they are unwittingly developing skills that are more universal than the medium at hand. They are practicing empathy, respect, and collaboration. They are learning that taking calculated risks, however small, is rewarding.
Classes are concluded with a presentation of the students’ work. Gallery openings and artist talks are the key to informing and including the rest of the community. Students mount and display the work themselves and then give a verbal presentation as well, fully voicing their intent and bringing their hard work to completion.
I am a guide and mentor to my students. I teach them the skills necessary to achieve success in a given medium, but I also encourage them to challenge their doubts and investigate their fears. I provide them with structure but I remind them that mistakes and failures are not only the best teachers, they are the best subject matter. I create a rich, informative environment, exposing them to a wide variety of artists and resources so that they can continue to furnish their minds and remain visually inspired. I share my deep-seated, fanatic belief that art is the nexus of all of the disciplines and that identifying those connections may help them find solutions to the unique challenges they will face, whatever field of study they find themselves in.
I often begin introductory art classes by asking students when they began to doubt themselves as artists. Most students respond with stories about an intimidating elementary school teacher or a well-meaning parent telling them that they “just didn’t get the gene.” I then share my story with them-that, as of second grade, I was “the poet” and that my best friend was “the artist.” This typecasting followed me, and my friend for that matter, all the way through my sophomore year in college. That was when I finally felt I had the permission to choose to be an artist. Even then, I did not realize that I could be both. I then encourage my students to take advantage of this generous luxury before them: a liberal arts education that affords them the time to learn a skill that will unlock their brain and allow them to be creative in any field.
The doubt is heavy at first. Students don’t believe that they are capable. They worry about their grade. I assure them that I won’t be grading them-they are responsible for grading themselves according to a mutually agreed upon rubric that examines the product, process and presentation of each exercise. Trust begins to be established through clearly defined expectations that are arrived upon by the class as a whole. The first group critique is an exciting moment, as students begin to understand the importance of using correct terminology when offering commentary to their peers. As they struggle with the balance of what they intended in their work versus what is observed by others, they are unwittingly developing skills that are more universal than the medium at hand. They are practicing empathy, respect, and collaboration. They are learning that taking calculated risks, however small, is rewarding.
Classes are concluded with a presentation of the students’ work. Gallery openings and artist talks are the key to informing and including the rest of the community. Students mount and display the work themselves and then give a verbal presentation as well, fully voicing their intent and bringing their hard work to completion.
I am a guide and mentor to my students. I teach them the skills necessary to achieve success in a given medium, but I also encourage them to challenge their doubts and investigate their fears. I provide them with structure but I remind them that mistakes and failures are not only the best teachers, they are the best subject matter. I create a rich, informative environment, exposing them to a wide variety of artists and resources so that they can continue to furnish their minds and remain visually inspired. I share my deep-seated, fanatic belief that art is the nexus of all of the disciplines and that identifying those connections may help them find solutions to the unique challenges they will face, whatever field of study they find themselves in.