Been a while...

I've not posted to this blog since I was teaching at the Pioneer Craft House.
Now I am teaching at Bryant Junior High.
After School art for Youthcity.
I am excited to get back to my 13 year-old girls.
Their boy crushes and exploits beyond innocence.'
Like women weaving, our art-making is automatic.
We are actually there for the community it creates.
So starting next week...I will have stories.
I am slowly creeping back into the world after the hibernation of pregnancy and newborn baby land.
And spring comes with me.

Summit High Fingers Crossed

Yesterday I drove out to Summit High.   It's an alternative high school.  The last stop for kids who have been kicked out of every other school, either by the admin. or on their own 'merit.'  I was kicked out too.  Junior year.  16 years old.  I waited til I got home to cry.  I wouldn't let the principal see me.  They told me if I skipped one more class, that was it.  I didn't think they meant it.
My dad came and picked me up.  He was a drop-out too.  He didn't yell at me.  He said, "It's OK Sarah, you can still go to college."  At home I listened to Beethoven, loud, and let out the tears from the principal's office. On the first day, I want to tell them this story.
I've gotta be able to hope.  Look up to something, even if it is unrealistic.  Hope to have an impact that will linger and help them when they are lost.  Like Mrs. Bean did for me.  She taught me to keep writing, no matter what.  Write the date on the top of the page, so I can remember, and write the truth.  I still do that. 17 years later.  She gave me a compass, and I surely needed one.  My path has been dark, and gnarled.

Here I go, fingers crossed.

Pioneer Craft House Echoes

Last Saturday's Mom Dad and Me class brought one family.
Two kids - a 6 year old girl and a 4 year old boy.
At first I was embarrassed that my class was so small.
Snow storm and all....people probably wanted to stay home.
I get discouraged and want to quit all the time.  But I believe that if I don't quit - no matter what - maybe one day I will look back and feel that I made a difference as a teacher.
If I quit.  I will never know.
The little boy was so delicate with his brush.  He asked me about every color, "Is this the right one?  How do I make that color?"
He'd point to a spot on his outer space image from the National Geographic, and I'd help him figure out the mixing of paint.
At the end I told him, "You did such a good job of finishing that painting.  I could tell you paid close attention to your colors.  You are a very good artist."
He pushed back into his chair, lowered his chin, and gave me his first smile of the afternoon.
I know he felt proud.
He will hang that painting in his room.

Not-So-Great Expectations

After school art has begun at the Sorenson Unity Center.
I find that I stumble most often over my own expectations.
It is hard to plan the intuitive process that is art-making.  I don't wanna get so tight that I don't allow the kids to explore the medium.  But I've now had 2 bottles of ink spill during class.  c'est la art?
I want to really teach these kids.  I want them to walk away from their experience with a different perspective, and able to see just a bit differently than before.  As a teacher, I can never know what their perception is.  I can only do my best and hope.
We are supposed to make signs to be placed into the community garden.  I want them to care a great deal.  I want them to be so engaged that they can't help but to explode with creative output.  This is not realistic, I realize, and it will be a slow, time-lapse process.  I can only hope that by June we can stand back and feel proud.  Maybe we will not see what we've learned til the end.

It's hard to wait.  It's hard to go in every day and feel like I failed, just a little.  That I could have been better.

T-shirts

 One of our more successful classes at PCH.
Even though one girl spilled my entire bottle of India ink!
The kids were very engaged with their parents,
and they were proud of their work.
I felt good on this day.

Sorenson Unity Center

Another venture.  Working after school at the Unity Center to help design a public art piece for their community garden.  It is supposed to be a kids' space.  As I sat in the conference room with the other ADULTS deciding what the KIDS' space would be, it felt contrived and silly.  I don't know what I want to do otherwise, but I want their real input.  The kids'.  How do we get it?  I had them make signs, and one wrote "No Repists."  What do I do with that?  I want them to take ownership of this project, but its' like asking a kids to mop the floor, and then having to mop the whole thing once their done.  Or asking a million times to take out the trash, and then we finally do it.  I don't know how hard to push the other teachers on this one.  But I feel like they already have their minds made up, and we're just including the kids for show.  I am afraid I'm going to offend someone here.  I am OK with that.  I mean...just LOOK at this PICTURE!  Kids are so worth listening to. Who else would so proudly wear a band-aid on their nose with orange fishnet?

Beet painting

Tomorrow at the PCH I am going to paint with beet juice.  Mom Dad and Me class is always on the fly...and I am learning more than I thought.  I am learning how to plan just enough to be prepared.  But not so much that I am scrambling to stick with my lesson and forgetting to have fun.  It is hard to be responsible for someone else's creativity.  I find that I have to really put myself in the kids' shoes.  What would they be excited to do?   What are they gonna love when they walk into the room?  Treats always help.  Storybooks seems to help too.  I am teaching more than just how to lay down paint.  I am teaching them to explore.  That is why I thought of the beet painting idea.  One day I just poured a can of beets onto my canvas...it was so Dr. Suess!  I felt liberated from the last year of thinking til I couldn't be creative anymore, then BAM it was undone.  I hope the kids like it.