Everyone is an Artist Until Someone Tells Them They Aren't

Its 1988. I’m seven years old and playing alone in my basement. There are several desks, pencils, text books, magazines, an art corner stuffed with supplies, a black board and a large desk off to the side which I use to grade papers and write my lesson plans. There are, of course, no real students in my classroom. It was my favorite game, and all in hopes that one day I would turn from writing notes on the chalkboard to face my students.

As a student, I embraced every opportunity to learn from my teachers. I looked up to them, admired them and trusted their knowledge. I understand how important it is for children to have positive influences in their lives, how a good mentor can enrich, redirect or even completely change a child’s life. I am lucky to have had one very important teacher in my elementary school. Mrs. Kennedy recognized my ability to draw from a very young age. She nurtured my talent and because of her, I went to college and graduated with a degree in Studio Fine Arts. I also like to think that is was her who inspired me to teach. In the beginning years when I was still pliable, Mrs. Kennedy helped me take my own shape. I wish I could thank her today for all that she taught me not only about art, but about myself as well. Art class was never just about learning that red and yellow make orange. It was more than that.

My first opportunity to teach (aside from the arts and craft projects that I taught at a pre-school) arose three years ago when I was asked by a Bergen Community College to teach a drawing course. I embraced the opportunity and never let on to my students that it was my first time teaching. In the car on the way to teach, I would feel nervous, but everyday when class began something happened inside of me. I was no longer worried that I didn’t know the material well enough or intimidated by 20 adults staring at me in anticipation. Something happened every time the class began, I was transformed into a confident self-assured teacher who wanted nothing more but to give her students the best, most accurate information possible. I felt a desire to encourage, embrace and unleash their inner artist. I felt it was my job to convince this room of adults who would say, “I can’t even draw a straight line” that they too were artists.

While teaching my own students I always remembered the positive outlook that Mrs. Kennedy used with me and I used her memory to mentor myself in my own classroom. And always remembering that every child starts off an artist and everyone is an artist until someone tells them they aren’t. It will be my job to remind them that art is not only about aesthetics.