Tag: John Spencer

Masterpiece.

Frida Kahlo: Self Portrait with Thorn Necklace
Frida Kahlo: Self Portrait with Thorn Necklace

A friend told me when I turned 50 some magical effect would take over me, and that essentially, I would be able to let most things go, not give a hoot over the little things (little things include petty, perfectionist people) and other positively beneficial emotions. Now that I am a few months into my 11th anniversary of 39 years, I suppose she was right. Maybe 50 is a magic number: in this decade we have thirty years of cumulative (starting from our 20s) life experiences: bosses, jobs, mates, perhaps children, and a reel of social media platitudes constantly reminding us to relax, relax, and relax.  And I confess: last year, when I was turning 50, I was elbow-deep in teacher evaluation hell and crying uncontrollably. A lot. (Of course there were plenty of organic, changes, milestones, and other layered factors that contributed.)

But there is something about finding that “good enough” confidence. And if you find it before you turn 50, or well after, it doesn’t matter. There is never a bad time to find this lily pad of peace. Toward the beginning of September I had this bubble of calm moment, this Zen chewy center, where I realized how much my whole life of art has created who I am, and how amazing that is. That no other teacher I know has my unique and qualified essential background in the visual arts, or approaches Language Arts the same exact way I do. I run my classroom more like a studio than a cubicle office. For years, I recognized my fatal flaw is not handling those who lack imagination well. (Understatement? Oh yes.) The dart-throwers, balloon-poppers and candy-stealers. Those who would rather take my mojo and throw it in the garbage than figure out how to create their own.

I am somewhat envious of Two Writing Teachers. They have found this collaborative and  important place to do good work. I am at an odd place right now, where I’m on the sidelines – no longer the rock star teacher, and not really asked to contribute or lead. I am definitely at that “now what?” question/stage in my teaching career.

So exactly how did my BFA help me be a better Language Arts teacher?

1. I took plenty of risks, including hours of figure drawing.

2. I put my art on the “wall” for review on a weekly basis.

3. I spent hours experimenting with various mediums to get exactly what I wanted. (Truth be known I didn’t know ahead of time it was what I wanted: my world was full of happy accidents.)

4. I got my hands (and clothes) dirty. I was primarily a print-maker, so rubbing grit on a lithographic stone is a texture that is burned in my memory.

5. I talked.

6. I listened.

7. I spent hours looking.

8. I failed.*

9. I was rejected.

10. I succeeded.*

11. I painted little.

12. I painted HUGE canvases that took up whole walls.

13. I lost art along the way.

14. I knew to pour black paint on a white canvas and get over fear.

15. I sought to understand art throughout history, and the story those artists were telling.

16. I had great mentors.

17. I painted over. Started over. Trashed. And Resurrected.

But the answer to the “now what?” question may be just this simple: enjoy this time. Enjoy this time that I know what I’m doing, I know when I need to change or tweak something, and I know when to put something aside or try something new. I am, and always will be, a work in progress. And if no one else understands my themes or style, then so be it. I will keep focused on this on-going struggle for communication and connection, and know that a portfolio of life is not always what stays in, but what is taken out.

*the biggie: it was how I determined my failures and successes, and this reflective, recursive, and responsive process has helped me immeasurably. My personal metric was often a combination of what I was trying to communicate synergized with what others perceived. Powerful stuff.

 

 

 

 

Thrown.

thrown

I read another blog named “Musings from a Not so Master Teacher” by a teacher named John Spencer. His audience, I believe, is primarily other teachers, so students, many of you may not be interested.

However, consider this: remember what I said yesterday about “filters?” That sometimes you need to get out of your past, and especially your present, and think a little bit into the future, and filter news and information that might benefit or harm yours? (Your future, that is.) Well, this is one of those times, but I’ll do some filtering for you, and give you the big chunks.

He recently wrote a post on competition, using the allegory of a parent talking to a child. (Remember: allegory-when characters/animals/objects represent something larger or other than themselves.) The parent says to the child that the child will receive food, clothing, etc. if they are competitive and earn it. It was just an essay, an opinion, a viewpoint. Mr. Spencer wasn’t suggesting that parents actually withhold food and love from their children. Another teacher wrote lengthy, multiple responses to this post, named Empowered Teacher. I like Empowered Teacher’s blog, too, because this masked-avenger also writes about issues and considerations that affect education. And as you know, dear children, education is a big deal to me.

Of course, I had to weigh in my opinion too. To me, competition isn’t bad or good, it exists, and I believe the most important question is we examine who is making the rules of the game, and then judge to see if the game is worth playing.

That led me to a nighttime conversation in my own mind last night, as I was drifting off: What is my relationship with competition?

Here are a few thoughts:

  • In 9th grade, I tried out for the cheer-leading squad. I practiced for weeks, was able to jump, dance, do the splits, whatever I needed to do. I rocked it. On try-out day, a friend of mine, short, blond, and perky, twisted her ankle and was unable to compete. She got a slot on the squad; I didn’t. Did it have to do with the fact that I was tall, (I wasn’t heavy then,  just tall), had a brown hair, and wore an ugly outfit? Or did the judges (mix of teachers and coaches) know this girl, and liked her, and didn’t know me, and wanted her on the squad? I will never know. Was it fair? No. Was it funny? No, not at the time. What did I learn? That sometimes, it doesn’t matter how hard you try, practice, work, study, etc., someone will still get the object that you desired. I think that perhaps not making the cheer-leading squad was one of the best things that happened to me, because it made me feel more confident and independent in high school. I had to learn to navigate the other 3,000+ personalities on my own, and find my own place and style.
  • Competing with myself: I have always been a hard, creative worker. I love to produce creative projects: writing, paintings, drawings, whatever. I have always been pleased when my hard work “pays off.” The pay-offs come in many forms, though, from getting a job that I wanted, to just feeling internally happy. But here’s the thing: There are many jobs I haven’t gotten. I even was fired once from a waitressing job in Colorado because supposedly I didn’t clean the salad area. This was devastating at the time, because I was living in Boulder, Colorado, and there are thousands of college kids there (University of Colorado). Jobs were scarce. Because another waitress decided she didn’t like me (Why? Have no idea, but another waitress told me) I lost that very rare and much needed job. I had never been fired in my life. My hard work, intelligence and loyalty had always paid off before, so why not now? I ended up finding a job delivering pizzas. My friend/roommate made fun of me because I had to wear brown polyester.

A few weeks ago, while getting my lunch, a few boys had had a tussle, and there was blood spilled. All I saw was two kids who were tired, upset, and hurt. Whatever they had been fighting about must have seemed really important at the moment, so much so  it didn’t stop with words, but physical pain. What were they competing for? Turf? Honor? Milk money?

People who have suffered from a natural disaster usually must compete for basic survival: food,water, shelter. It’s not “looting” when it’s “survival.”

People who come from cold, harsh families have to compete for their parents’ love.

People who are waiting in the grocery store lines are competing for time–heaven forbid if the person in front of them has one too many items in the express line or writes a check. We’re on a fast track! Hurray! Get out of my way!!!

Here’s what I want you to walk away with: the world is competitive. And many times, the rules are not shown or given to you. You have to figure it out. Many times you will do your best, you will be loyal, you will work hard, and someone else will get the job, the girl, or the guy, the house, the place in line in front of you, or the last scoop of tater tots. That doesn’t mean you should ever give up. Do what you love, learn as much as you can, and no one will ever be able to take that from you.

 

Or, I’m taking my ball and going home.