Personal Art Education History
I feel like I am the stereotypical success story when it comes to art education. Throughout my primary and secondary schooling I was discouraged from art, I was considered mediocre, and didn’t feel encouraged by my peers or teachers. But once I was in college suddenly art was fun again, the teachers cared and pushed, and I felt like I had found my calling in life.
In elementary school my teacher was harsh and strict, wanting everything just so and never really allowing for creativity outside the box. Everything had to be a perfect copy and it discouraged me greatly. In third grade we were doing a still-life drawing with crayons that I was very proud of until I learned the teacher was going to put a wash of orange acrylic on top. I was distraught and asked if I could leave it without the paint, but was told no. It had to be like everyone else’s painting. The paint ruined and distorted my picture and even though my mother hung it up proudly I could never like it again.
In middle school I became homebound due to a hip disability and through the internet was introduced to all kinds of different artists, Japanese anime, and video game illustrators. I started copying from my favorite artists and creating my own works of art and illustrations but when my parents disapproved I stopped and eventually threw out many of my drawings.
It was an act of fate that in high school I took a 2D art class instead of band because I still couldn’t walk properly. My teacher disliked anything that wasn’t realistic or in the way of the ‘old masters’ but I still enjoyed learning how to draw, about proportions, and color theory. While I wasn’t her best student she saw something in me and offered to enroll me in the two graphic design classes. I loved the Graphic Design Academy, as they called it, and found out that I had a knack for layout and design, enough so that my art teacher put me in her 2D Design Advanced Placement class. It was common consensus among the students that unless you were one of her favorites you didn’t receive her attention in class. I was not one of those and as the only 2D Design student I spent most of my classes talking to the other not-favorite students who banded together or teaching myself Illustrator. As much as I might gripe about this teacher I owe her a great deal. She put me on the path of wanting to be an artist, to go to school for art. She was also the first teacher I took ideas from on how to run and not to run a classroom.
At the local community college I was introduced to ceramics and it was like a light bulb turned on. With clay I found no frustrations as I did with drawing or painting and the ceramic teacher, Janis Brothers, became a sort of mentor figure to me. With her guidance I decided to pursue a degree in studio art with a concentration in ceramics at a state university rather than illustration at a private art school.
While finishing my bachelors at Florida State University I noticed a difference between myself and my classmates. Many of them were getting their B.F.A. and spent every waking hour in the studio. They tolled over their paintings and vessels, ripped themselves and each other apart in critique, and seemed to go beyond the call of duty when it came to conceptualism. While I loved the atmosphere of the studio classes I couldn’t see myself becoming an artist for a living like they did. Rather, I enjoyed helping my classmates in and out of class work on their pieces, discuss their concepts, or show them techniques from other classes that would better help them. By the time I graduated I had three teachers suggesting that teaching was the way for me to go and I whole-heartedly agreed.
In elementary school my teacher was harsh and strict, wanting everything just so and never really allowing for creativity outside the box. Everything had to be a perfect copy and it discouraged me greatly. In third grade we were doing a still-life drawing with crayons that I was very proud of until I learned the teacher was going to put a wash of orange acrylic on top. I was distraught and asked if I could leave it without the paint, but was told no. It had to be like everyone else’s painting. The paint ruined and distorted my picture and even though my mother hung it up proudly I could never like it again.
In middle school I became homebound due to a hip disability and through the internet was introduced to all kinds of different artists, Japanese anime, and video game illustrators. I started copying from my favorite artists and creating my own works of art and illustrations but when my parents disapproved I stopped and eventually threw out many of my drawings.
It was an act of fate that in high school I took a 2D art class instead of band because I still couldn’t walk properly. My teacher disliked anything that wasn’t realistic or in the way of the ‘old masters’ but I still enjoyed learning how to draw, about proportions, and color theory. While I wasn’t her best student she saw something in me and offered to enroll me in the two graphic design classes. I loved the Graphic Design Academy, as they called it, and found out that I had a knack for layout and design, enough so that my art teacher put me in her 2D Design Advanced Placement class. It was common consensus among the students that unless you were one of her favorites you didn’t receive her attention in class. I was not one of those and as the only 2D Design student I spent most of my classes talking to the other not-favorite students who banded together or teaching myself Illustrator. As much as I might gripe about this teacher I owe her a great deal. She put me on the path of wanting to be an artist, to go to school for art. She was also the first teacher I took ideas from on how to run and not to run a classroom.
At the local community college I was introduced to ceramics and it was like a light bulb turned on. With clay I found no frustrations as I did with drawing or painting and the ceramic teacher, Janis Brothers, became a sort of mentor figure to me. With her guidance I decided to pursue a degree in studio art with a concentration in ceramics at a state university rather than illustration at a private art school.
While finishing my bachelors at Florida State University I noticed a difference between myself and my classmates. Many of them were getting their B.F.A. and spent every waking hour in the studio. They tolled over their paintings and vessels, ripped themselves and each other apart in critique, and seemed to go beyond the call of duty when it came to conceptualism. While I loved the atmosphere of the studio classes I couldn’t see myself becoming an artist for a living like they did. Rather, I enjoyed helping my classmates in and out of class work on their pieces, discuss their concepts, or show them techniques from other classes that would better help them. By the time I graduated I had three teachers suggesting that teaching was the way for me to go and I whole-heartedly agreed.