In one way or another, art is involved in everyone’s life. Whether it’s through poetry, music, or physical pieces, art is a part of everyone. I grew up around artistic people. My sister always loved to draw and paint, and even ended up going to art school and now animates professionally. My mom’s favorite hobby was making crafts for my school's yearly Christmas craft fair. I was never insecure about my artsy abilities. Activities like painting rocks, crocheting, and writing short stories had always occupied my free time.
All my artistic confidence was ripped from me at the ripe age of 10, in my 4th grade class. To this day, I’m still not sure what Ms. Rede, my teacher, had against me. There were 20 kids in this class, 15 boys and 5 girls. I remember I had gone and asked her if I could be sat closer to the board, I didn’t like getting teased in the back with all the boys. When she made our seating chart, she proceeded to put the other 4 girls in the front row and placed me in the very back. To 10-year-old me, it was like being thrown into a lion’s den.
In Mrs. Rede’s class, we did a lot of art projects, from recreating book cover art and making school posters to drawing new name tags and making paper book sleeves. You name it, we did it! The first time Ms. Rede heavily criticized my art was when we were doing a project where we had to make a detailed drawing of what we thought archeologists would dig up in 100 years from our society today. I remember putting real effort into it, and when I turned it in, I watched her rip it apart and throw it away. She told me that “trash belongs in the trash” and made me redo it. This was not a scripted reality television show, it was a professional teacher and a 10-year-old, getting her emotions broken in a matter of seconds.
She had of course made comments about my creations before, but it was never this bad. Usually, they were just one-off comments about how I pressed too hard with my crayons or how I needed to work on my handwriting. But after she did this, my confidence was broken. I remember crying the rest of the day, and by the time school was over, she had scolded me again but offered me a redo. I got new paper and fresh crayons and brought them home. I cried to my family about what had happened, and my sister, a college art student, offered to do it for me.
(This is where my art complex really started)
I turned in my sister's crayon-colored masterpiece that depicted archeological scenes that my brain couldn’t even comprehend yet. I got great reviews from the teacher herself and from here on out, for the next 10 years, people would expect great things from me when it came to art.
Fast forward a few months from that incident, to Mother’s Day 2013. For that special occasion, we had an in-class drawing assignment: Mother’s Day cards. I couldn’t lean on my sister for this one, so I put my heart into making a card for my mom. When I put it in the “complete” pile, it was soon ripped to shreds, by an unpleasant Ms. Rede. She explained that it was not only because the drawing I did was subpar, but because I had spelled a word wrong. After that, I cried so hard that my dad had to come pick me up.
For years after this, my sister would draw for me. Art projects, English assignments, science fair boards, she did it all. We had a deal. She would draw for me, and I would help her write her essays. Keep in mind that my sister and I are almost 10 years apart, so she was designing middle school-level science projects, while I was revising college-level papers. When she graduated, she continued to help me through high school. When I graduated, I thought I would never have to do another art project again. (Spoiler alert: I was wrong)
When I was a freshman in college I was pursuing Hotel, Restaurant, and Tourism Management, a degree that keeps me safe from doing any art. Soon I started meeting people, making friends, and I picked up new minors for my degree. Before I knew it I had four minors and had two jobs. I was always busy, and that kept me from procrastinating or being bored. This was a great plan… for about a month. Soon the monotony of everyday life started to crush my young soul. How did I decide to fix this? Take an art class. My roommate, Isabella, was getting an art minor and decided that in the fall, she would be taking a Jewelry and Small Metal Construction course, a.k.a., metals. For some unknown reason, I chose to enroll.
Now I am a junior, and I am taking my third semester of metals. I have faced lots of challenges, from not understanding certain aspects of art, such as perception or color theory. Nor can I relate to my classmates talking about their other art classes and past experiences. Overall, my sketches might not be as good as everyone else’s, but I love it.
These metals classes have taught me more about myself than anything before. I’ve made projects that focus on things I know and things I feel. This class has given me a chance to express another part of myself. Over the semesters, I have found myself wearing more out-of-the-box clothes on my “art days”, finding more obvious inspiration in my normal routine, and I’ve even become more productive in my other work. A lot of the praise for this should go to my teacher, Motoko. She pushes us and guides us while she allows us to make what we want. Throughout the length of my time in metals, I have become more comfortable with doing more out-of-the-box projects, such as setting pills in a project instead of stones or having so many solder points in a bracelet, that I have to call in instructor backup. Having an in-class support system with students and teachers alike creates the creative safe space I have always craved.
Any advice I would give to someone going through the same thing I did, is that it’s okay to take a break. The worst thing I did in my struggle was when I “walked it out”. I wish I didn’t tough it out, but that I had let myself breathe to work it out before I became so dependent.
I still struggle with the class, but I am forever grateful to Motoko, and even Ms. Rede, for getting me to where I am now. Today I make detailed art based on past experiences that have already led to further inspiration. I have made so many close relationships within my art class and I have experienced so many new things that I feel more evolved as a person.
I am forever grateful that art never gave up on me, even when I gave up on it.
Written By: Emalie, Culture and Entertainment Collective 1
Cool to see your relationship with art. I haven't ever been super into art but I have close family members that are. Great post, thanks for sharing!
Wow I really enjoyed reading your blog. My apologies go to you for facing that kind of treatment at such a young age. Teachers do not understand the impact they have on children, or if they do they seem to not care. Your art is absolutely stunning!
I am so sorry you had to endure that at such a young age, and by someone who was supposed to be guide you, but you were the one that got the last word in (your pieces was amazing!). This post was amazing to read, although it did have me put my mouth over my hand and all I wanted to do was give your 10-year old self a hug and protect you against Ms. Rede. So glad in how far you've come!
Your blog was truly a nice narrative to read, it truly shows your skills in writing. We all need to go through a person like that teacher, it is one of those things in life that may be necessary to become a better person. I am glad you came through and find your own happy ending. Of course, this is not really the ending, but the beginning for a much better ending. I appreciate the photos regarding your metal projects as it truly shows how you have developed this art skill.
I'm so sorry that an evil human being took away something you loved for years and undermined your creativity. I really enjoyed reading your post, as I have also been in a situation where one person destroyed my love for a hobby. I love that you are doing what you love now and have grown from the experiences. Your artwork is beautiful!