The Culture at Chelsea

...and before I knew it, it was my last official day as Ms. Tilly's student teacher at Chelsea Vocational. Gosh the time went fast! Over the past three classes I've been contemplating what I think the culture at Chelsea is, mostly due to the Lightfoot article I read for my Special Needs class. When asked to reflect about the culture at Chelsea, I found it easy to compile all of my initial assumptions and feelings into a descriptive writing piece. When I next returned to Chelsea, I walked around, and individually asked my students what they thought the culture at Chelsea was all about. I got a whole array of responses. The following week, I brought a stack of white index cards, and a pile of black Sharpie markers. I re-approached as many of the students that I could, or at least, the ones that showed up to school that day, as compared to the week before, and asked them to make me a "quick sketch" about what they thought the culture at Chelsea was like. Below, in the first image,("Before") is my visual interpretation of what the culture at Chelsea is like. The second image, ("After") includes the work of my students, reflecting their thoughts. Responses are welcome!

After

Before

December already?

And so it goes. Winter is rapidly approaching in time frame, yet not quite in the air. Hardly brisk, tomorrow comes December 1, and I've yet to pull out my down coat, or my heavy-weight hat-scarf-mitten sets. What happens when its December but winter has not yet arrived? The rows of Christmas trees tied up at the Chelsea "playground" (the street plaza out front) makes it difficult for the students to lounge and linger there now, despite the sunshine that begs for their company. As I walk around the classroom, I lean in to converse with some of my favorite students, and ask about their holiday. (It was just Thanksgiving break last week.) Once our conversation is flowing, I interrupt their thoughts with a new one- how does culture play a role at Chelsea? Most are puzzled by my question- some others answer quite abruptly. After all, how does culture play a role in my life? How should culture influence art? Does it?

A diary entry

"I kind of feel like we're reading her diary," a classmate commented. In a sense, they were. As Aileen flipped through the pages of this semester's tangible piece of my soul, the class waited for my stories, the words that might just match the images they saw. At first, it was natural for me. Brandeis taught us to be able to speak about our works, to add wall text, when necessary. But suddenly, it wasn't up to me, which pieces I should or should not reflect on, let alone did I have time to prepare any sort of artist statement. It was totally impromptu, on the spot. Right then and there. The feedback was not necessarily positive or negative, per se. It just was. And at the end? What was left beyond my vulnerability? Oh yes, my sketchbook, and my drawings. Spread open to my latest entry, the secrets scattered around the room, the page only holding a collection of lines. My mind and soul were quickly stripped away, revealing my inner core, my thoughts, to a room full of near strangers. So go ahead, click on. At least when flipping through Margo's Fall Sketchbook here online, you cannot see my embarrassment, or feel my anxiety, you can't hear my obsessive nature, and you can't taste the wonder...the wonder if honestly is always the best policy...

Sing for the Moment

"Miss, Miss! Can you help me Miss?" and I do.

I speak, usually, the student listens.

and watches my face as I talk. We look down at their work, usually a drawing of sorts, and then back at one another. I take their pencil, and when handy, a scrap of paper, and show them what I am thinking. I draw. They watch, they take their pencil, and at first, try to copy.

We keep working together, until their hopes become reality - the few scratched lines suddenly become the color of the iris, the missed white spots shows how the reflection hits their eye.

And there it is- the moment, the moment I sing for,

when my student looks up in amazement at what he or she has made, that their drawing suddenly looks how it does, in this case, more realistic than they could have ever imagined.

There's a different look when the students eyes meet mine this time. It's excitement, it's appreciation, it's thanks- thanks to me for believing in them.

And my smile back, means, my pleasure hun...anytime.

The wonders of Student Teaching, I mean, Observation...

So now it's been about 3 weeks since I first arrived at Chelsea Vocational to observe the lovely Miss Tilly, and her studio art classes. It's hard to tell at Chelsea, that has been described to me as a "failing school" what kind of school spirit/pride the students feel, if any. I quickly learn that Chelsea seniors need to pass Miss Tilly's class in order to graduate. How many of the students actually care about art, versus the fact that they want to graduate, somewhat, on time, remains unclear. Some of the students produce really nice work (be sure to check out the slideshow on the right) and some of the students work very hard, and you can tell. It's weird, being considered the student teacher and all, especially since this class was supposed to be about observing...and also since many of the students are fairly close in age to myself. "Miss! Miss" they call out to me, "Miss can you draw this for me?" Most show me utmost respect, which is pretty exciting to see as a prospective teacher! There's still the occasional student who feels compelled to talk back- which usually means, talk forward, since it is usually the student who "starts it up" anyhow. Some of the students might even like me! I try my best to be young and cool, friendly and approachable, of course, lots of fun!

A Fight!

First time for everything, I actually witnessed the beginning of a full-fledged fight at my observation today at good ol' Chelsea Vocational High School. One student got so angry she grabbed her metal stool swung it over her and head and BAM! one of her fellow classmates caught it, and her, before she could do any damage. It didn't even stir the other half of the class that was sitting on my side of the room. Oh man. Welcome to public school, Rach!

Why Blog?

So I've reached a point in my life, where I can no longer deny the advancement of technology. It's here, and there's not much more that I can do, except embrace it... 25 years late, I am going to start accepting it. I'm Rach, and I'm here to share my teaching/educational experiences with you, and with anyone else who might also be interested in people, studio art, and connecting the two. Aileen, my professor, believes it will help me as a future art educator. Although I'm not yet convinced, I am going to give it a try, and track my thought process here with you. Enjoy!

Self-portrait