carol j watson

This article will make its official debut in the March 2010 of Austin Family Magazine and website. Be sure to pick up a copy at a location near you!

When people find out that I am an art teacher, certain responses are predictable: “Oh, I’m not good at art,” or “I can’t draw,” or “Be glad I’m not in your art class!” These comments are unfortunately common, and depending on the situation, I debate internally whether to simply accept their statement as fact, politely encourage them with an optimistic remark, or engage in a conversation about their experiences with art. Regardless of my decision, one thing routinely, painfully, becomes clear: Little I say will sway them from their negative opinion of themselves as artists.

Simultaneously, these self-proclaimed non-artists often wax poetic about their desire to be artistic, yearning for that nebulous Art Talent which they themselves never attained. I wonder at what point these people lost sight of their artful lives. Ironically, these folks also speak of few or sporadic art classes and experiences growing up. Or, they refer to art experiences limited to “coloring inside the lines” at the behest of their well-meaning homeroom teacher. In the absence of rigorous and dedicated art education, their idea of art and what art is grew stunted and uninformed.

On the other hand, individuals who actually had art class in school on a regular basis confide in me that they view their artistic ability as average or above. Furthermore, if they connected even only a little with their art teacher, they were deeply and positively impacted in a constructive and permanent way. Art is seen as something more than the ability to draw; art is a lens with which they view life. Over and over I hear from people I meet, see from students I teach, that art is the glue that connects the many different parts of their lives. Artful or creative thinking adds interest and innovation in an otherwise dull day at the office. Some days I am certain that it is my art class that made a particular student rise out of bed and come to school.

There is something special about arts education during the formative years of youth. More than just an “extra” in a child’s day, art is an essential component in developing a child’s ability to see the world around her in a critical, qualitative, and affective way. More than just learning how to draw, art education teaches a child to see, to perceive, and to represent her environment, ideas, and responses in a variety of ways. More than just creating a sculpture or painting, art education compels a child to be in touch with her emotional and intellectual motivation for making certain aesthetic choices. The young artist must articulate what is often more easily represented with images, colors, textures, or form.

Furthermore, research continues to show us that students receiving a fine arts education perform higher on standardized tests such as the SAT, enter the working world better equipped to meet the demands of 21st century employers, and support the arts as an economic force in their communities. CreateTexas (www.createtexas.org) lists no fewer than 20 reasons as to why Texas’ economy depends on the arts and the creative sector. The Texas Commission on the Arts (www.arts.state.tx.us) provides data on the future of arts education (visual arts and performing arts) as seen through the eyes of CEOs and other business leaders. Repeatedly we are being forewarned that creative thinking, innovation, and communication are qualities needed for the 21st century workforce, and that exposure and interaction with the arts is one of the main components of a 21st century education.

The Texas Art Education Association features on its website (www.taea.org) compelling work by Elliott Eisner entitled “Ten Lessons the Arts Teach.” It is on display in my art room, shared by my peers in art and art education, read to my students and shared with parents, and is an invaluable reminder of why art education and Youth Art Month are critical components in the whole education of any child. For the parent, grandparent, educator, or advocate, it is invaluable articulation of why art education is important in our schools. Eisner’s list empowers those who wish to seek, protect, and demand more art instruction in schools and communities.

TAEA also promotes March as Youth Art Month on its website, and provides resources for teachers and parents interesting further promoting art education year round. Students from around the state of Texas have an opportunity to create flags promoting Youth Art Month. Winners are featured on the website. The theme for Youth Art Month for 2010-2014 is “Art Shapes the World.”

The Council for Art Education (http://www.acminet.org/cfae.htm), the official sponsor of Youth Art Month, highlights many of the benefits of art education and quality art programs in schools. Enhanced self esteem, creative problem solving, and appreciation of others are cited as some of the many benefits of art education. Youth Art Month, observed yearly in March, is a time for appreciation of art and art programs locally, regionally, and nationally. Anyone can contribute to the month’s events, and your local art teacher is a great place to start when seeking art appreciation opportunities. Through consistent and dedicated support of art education, parents, grandparents, teachers, and schools can make a positive difference in the artful lives that children lead.

I know that even as an impassioned art teacher, there is little I can do to change a person’s experience with art in the past. Regardless of where a person might fall on the creative curve, there is one thing that anyone can do: Ensure that every child’s educational future consists of rigorous, extensive, and protected arts education.

Sigh…

The end of summer break is drawing near, and I find myself at the zenith of my creative energy. June was for decompressing, exercising, and sleeping. July was all about business: Dental appointments, doctor appointments, various household administrative tasks that had been held til summer break. Around the middle of July, the electric buzz in my head meant ideas were finally heating up and bouncing around in my brain, and my “work” began. By August 1st, I was in the throes of jewelry making, photography, listing new items on Etsy, and planning my next moves. Art shows to enter, new beads to make on the torch, and suddenly, I realized that school is less than two weeks away…

Sigh.

You might think that I am not looking forward to school. Not true. I love teaching art, and I love what I do for ten months out of the year. It’s just that the next two weeks are in many ways the hardest part of the year, and require a shift in thinking for me. A shift that takes me away from my much awaited regenerative, creative time back to lesson planning, meetings, parents, anxious teenagers trying so hard not to look like anxious teenagers, more meetings, more lesson plans, new schedule, new problems to solve, and the like…The Friday before teachers return to work is always the hardest. Four projects to wrap up this weekend. Somehow get to sleep Sunday night. Show up Monday morning, with a smile on my face, ready to begin a school year anew.

Every year this happens. I press the “pause” button on my tidal wave of creative energy. Then I spend two hard weeks preparing for the real work of the school year to begin. And, as always, when I press that “pause” button a second time to unleash the creative thinking again, I realize that I have a better use for that creative energy than just me.

Here’s to a new school year.

Cooking is a lot like art, especially for me. I cook like I paint, adding a dash of this, a bit of that, until whatever I am concocting is just right.

I’ve been slow to ramp up this summer in the art department, but our garden has made it possible, even necessary, for constant creativity in the kitchen. The most exciting thing in our garden this year is our San Marzano tomatoes. I ordered seed from Seeds of Change, and planted the little seedling trays in January of this year. An heirloom variety known for making a delicious paste, these plants are the big-daddy-behemoths of our garden. A couple of these plants are taller than I am!

I’ve been harvesting and saving the San Marzano tomatoes for about a week now, and decided today they were ready to be used for homemade pasta sauce. Using oregano, basil, bay, onions, and tomatoes from our garden (plus a gigantic elephant bulb garlic from the farmer’s market), I created our first ever homemade pasta sauce. It turned out great, and was fun to photograph.

I made just enough -two pints- to eat with various dishes in the next week or so. I may make a much bigger batch later in the summer, and can or freeze it so we can enjoy the fruits of our labor year round!

Spring is definitely here. My favorite color, the tender green of springtime, is everywhere. My Jeep matches Mother Nature, and I love it! Blessed with beautiful Spring Break weather, my family has taken full advantage of it: washing the Jeep, taking the top down, working in the garden, putting up the long-awaited purple screen door (more on that later), painting, sweeping, napping with the windows open, and watching our precious cats mesmerized by birds and bees they see through the latched screen door.

For Spring Break 2009, I had grand illusions of days and days of uninterrupted art, though. I have beads to create, jewelry pieces to design, and a canvas just screaming at me from its lonely easel post in the kitchen. So what happened to my creative energy? That’s simple. I diverted it to creative tasks (blessings?) around the house.

As we hung the screen door, as I painted the window in my master bath, as I spray-painted an antique chair and created a new and purple-y focal area by my front door, I thought a lot about creative energy. About creating art. About what art is and what it isn’t. I concluded that the creative and artistic energy that flows from us isn’t confined to being appreciated in a drawing or bead or sculpture. It’s the artful life we lead; it is the artful approach we take to creating the world in which we live. As I worked around the house, I used creative energy no differently than if I were working on the torch or at the easel. The main difference I see is that my accomplishments at home can’t be sold on Etsy or displayed in an exhibit somewhere. Not likely, anyway.

What this means to me is that whether we see ourselves as traditional artists or not, we all can lead our lives artfully. We can pour our creative energy into the world around us, our communities, our schools, our neighborhoods, and our homes. I’m pretty sure someone has already written this book, and yes, I know I’m stating the obvious, but it seems like something worth saying over and over again.

I wish you a creative Spring.