Why I can't write an art text

Forty-nine years of teaching. All that experience. All those lesson plans. Relationships that matter. Field trips. Homecoming. Prom. COVID. Movies with popcorn. All night dances. Students that fought, cried, celebrated, grew up and went away. Some came back. Those are what I have. Experiences. Things that worked. Things that didn't. Sick days. Deciding to give the extra points or not.  Oh yeah. Do I know the artwork? The artist? The elements and principles of design? Can I paint or draw? Throw on the wheel? Create? Sure. But how do I translate the rest?

Teaching from a text is like seeing the moon but not walking on it. Watching the ship leave the harbor with you on the shore. I can't write a text about art that you can use. I can give you ideas that I used for my classes but those were MY classes and their personalities are unique. Why would I try to share the importance of cleaning your brushes if you don't paint? I can easily become a YouTube "expert" that shows you how but do you have my skill and my students? Until you learn to take your knowledge and experience and incorporate it into your classroom- my textbook is just that. Mine. 

 

Bring in a roll-off

I can't just throw things away. With every toy, dented, missing parts, faded color or batteries missing there's a memory. One hundred and eighty days- no, 180 ties. Ties chosen by students to wear for the day. A battle to be the one to choose. The glamorous. The ridiculous. The countdown to Christmas break. Each had a special meaning. Not just another day of teaching. "Can I borrow a tie?"

Then there's the Chucks. 

Signed by the students. The actors. The Russian campers. Some gone on to greatest, some in jail, some dead. How can I discard them? Do I risk forgetting the moment we had?

And there's the little things. Hand made buttons. Class pictures. Drawings that were given to me. I was special to someone.

and now, my signature has been a tattoo. No. I can't just bring in a roll-off.