Early phases of becoming an artist
There have been a few people in my life who have played a significant role in nurturing my creativity. My high school art teacher, Miss Keary, is one of the most important to me. I haven’t seen her in over thirty years, but I do hear about her since my father attends a yearly meeting of retired teachers. One of her friends left a comment on a post I wrote last year, where I just briefly mentioned her, which inspired me to talk about her in more depth.
It isn’t always easy being an artist. Even more difficult is becoming one in environments that are often hostile to expressions of creativity and not designed to nurture artistic or visual skills. I liked school, and was fairly successful in most subjects, but they were all just classes get out of the way so I could attend art class. I remember counting the days until the next one– torture in elementary school when they were two weeks apart.
I decided to attend high school in the town where my father was a teacher instead of the town we lived in since it had higher quality schools. I was the new kid with no friends, and I lived 45 minutes away. I remember walking down to the basement of the big new school to discover the art department that became my oasis for the three years of high school.
The first room at the bottom of the stairs was Miss Keary’s room. I remember her as a fairy godmother. Always so cheery and bright. Salve in the midst of the social struggles of teenage years. And she was a real artist, who painted and showed in galleries. I had never met one before. My family is full of people who do crafts for hobbies, but not for ART.
What I got from my high school art teacher, Marjorie Keary
Marjorie Keary believed in me. She probably believed in all her students, but she had a way of making it feel personal and personalized. She was always supportive and told me I could be an artist and found something positive about everything I did. And it wasn’t because my work was outstanding— my mother still has a pile of it under a bed in her house— it is typical high school art.
Maybe she saw my passion? The tiny little flame of inspiration? She nurtured it and helped it grow.
She opened my eyes, and changed how I see the world forever. Miss Keary loved to assemble still life setups for us to draw with fabric and pitchers. My drawings were always kind of flat and boring. Not that she ever once told me that, but I knew. Then one day I was struggling to figure out what I was doing wrong. I remember the moment like it was yesterday. She leaned over my right shoulder and started pointing out details I wasn’t seeing. Shadows. How the textures contrasted. How the lines interrelated. She gently challenged me to look deeper. After several minutes suddenly the world shifted, and I started seeing differently. Kind of like in the Wizard of Oz when the movie shifts from black and white to color.
I thought I was learning to draw, but she showed me that I was learning to see. The hand can’t begin to reproduce what the eye can’t see. It was a profound moment in my development.
Lessons learned
I don’t think I ever would have become an artist without Marjorie Keary in my life. Much of art training is based on criticism, and the market is a harsh judge. Many, many times over the years I have remembered those early years of support, and drawn on them for strength and inspiration.
My attention has shifted over the years from being an artist who makes stuff to being an artist who facilitates others people’s creativity. I have remembered how important it is to have someone believe in your creativity and see the sparks of inspiration in the early attempts.
I doubt Marjorie Keary was even doing all of these things and making this huge mark on my life so I could go on to make marks on others. I believe it is just the integrity of who she is and how she walks though this world. I hope I have become a better person from the foundation she gave me.
So, thank you Miss Keary, for all you have done for me. For how you inspired and nurtured me when I needed it most. For being a kind generous mentor to young artists. For who you are and how you walk through the world.
Christine Martell
Kia ora Christine.
What a splendid tribute to a wonderful teacher. I’d like to be a teacher like Miss Keary. It’s difficult, but it’s at the heart of pedagogy.
Pedagogy often comes up in conversation between teachers. They also often broach it like it’s something incredibly complex.
Though it’s not simple, at the heart of pedagogy is caring, nurturing and giving support. It is a foundation for good teaching. Piaget knew this. Well done Miss Keary!
Catchya later
from Middle-earth
You are so lucky you had a supportive teacher like that. My experience was so different, with constant criticism at both the high school and later my freshman year in college. I began to hate art, so I left the major and decided to just do it on my own for my own pleasure. I have sold pieces, but still have the critical teacher on my shoulder whenever I feel the urge to sit down and paint or draw.
These days, I leave my artistic endeavors to picture taking and designing learning objects for my class. Who knows where I would be if I had had a Miss Keary in my life.
@Ken Allan: like so many things, simple in concept, difficult in practice
@Virginia Yonkers: I too had vast amounts of criticism, esp in design school. But I was so lucky to have Marjorie Keary and her colleague Robert Enos, who gave me support when I needed it most. It reminds me of the power of mentoring, and how much difference we can make in a persons life with kindness and compassion at critical times.
I so cringe every time I hear a story like yours (and I hear them way too often). Do know, I too have that critical teacher on my shoulder that says horrible things despite the support. For me, it is the process of creating that is the most important, so I have gotten better at accepting most of what I create will be pretty crappy as a product. Not easy though.