The Heart of an Artist

The first time I faced 30-some sullen faces staring 

back at me, my stomach fell and I wondered how I found myself in that middle school classroom. I wasn't a teacher and I was definitely intimidated. But it didn't take long before I began to understand the situation. When I asked, "Did you guys get a chance to follow along with my video?", an enthusiastic voice rang out,

"Yeah! It was cool!"

"Yeahhhhh, it was COO-OOL!", a bigger kid at a neighboring table mocked in a simpering voice.
 
And I quickly got it. Any enthusiasm was an opportunity to be singled out for ridicule. Kids at this age know that the safest bet is to blend in, staying stony faced and quiet. Look down. Avoid eye contact. A middle school classroom is a jungle.

With experience, I learned that it was safer for me to engage them one on one. So after a demo, I spent the rest of the period walking around the classroom, talking to them individually, quietly. Those interactions often drew pleased but understated reactions. One student, so pleased with his work and glowing in my positive critique was ridiculed by another student who said,

"She says that to everyone!"

I whispered to the stunned student, "You have the heart of an artist.", and he ducked his head to hide a pleased smile.

But even the aggressive students were hungry for positive feedback. The smart aleck giving the other boy trouble held up his painting for me as I passed by. "Very bold!" I said, thinking to myself - "just like you, kiddo. Bold as brass."

In contrast, the 2nd graders couldn't wait to have my attention. When I offered a compliment, neighboring students called out, "Miss Julie! Do you like MINE?" It was such a pleasure to be a part of their enthusiasm, their pride.

But truly, those middle school students held a special place in my heart. They were often insecure with their work and I tried to be aware of that, careful with their tender hearts. I started my demo encouraging them to use only 2 primary colors so they wouldn't get a muddy result, which could be disappointing. One day,  I found a student gazing quietly down at her very muddy, textured painting. I worried that she was upset. I saw flecks of bright color coming through, so I wanted to reassure her. Before I could speak, she looked up at me and said earnestly, "I just love it SOOO much!"

The heart of an artist. <3

What a privilege it was to be a small part of their journey.