teacher certification

Always Learning Something

/ Marlo / 2 Comments

What is the big deal? The big deal is that I have completed 6 classes towards my teacher certification. Both boys are in public school now and yes, I even started a teaching job three weeks ago. I have one more class and the Praxis test and then I will be finished. This past week I finished my final exams for my art classes at Tunxis Community College here in CT. Little did I know that when I signed up for these classes I would find the thing that makes me sing, the artistic impulse that has been tucked away for a very long time. I know I am a good student and I was in “student” mode. On our first day we had to write a note to our selves and the professor gave them back to us this week before our critiques. I had forgotten about the note. Reading my note addressed to myself, I was filled with awe. I wished myself “Lucky” success as if that “y” was an astrick of glitter or sparkle or fairy dust that would grant my wishes. I suppose it was a spelling error, no matter, to my surprise I did a what I set out to do!

While I was home schooling our kids, raising our kids all my creative energy went into that. I am a very good multitasker but my creative flow concerning my art, well it was not flowing.

While attending classes, of course I saw myself as a student. Not sure why I feel the need to compartmentalize but being artist and being student where not mutual, not one in the same. I went into my art classes as a student not as an artist. However, my artist self appeared and is here to stay.

Part of this certification process allowed me to take classes in my area of interest. Art classes – YEAH! I wanted in person, not on line, something practical like Electronic Drawing and Painting and something new to me, Illustration. The way I felt about my decision was my willingness to be super open and ready for a challenge, learn something new, just jump in. A prerequisite for these classes was drawing 2. In my undergraduate experience I had taken 6 drawing classes, I think that qualified me. But I had to have a discussion with the enrollment person to verify this… slightly annoying to me. I bring this up to say that after I started to produce work for my assignments and I shared with my peers, friends, family they also forgot that I DO have this experience or ability. Maybe I forgot too.

My life is busier than it has ever been and I somehow found the time to focus, be in art flow, leave my work area…aka dining room table and leave it a mess, spend 5 minutes working, go do life and then come back. I was switching hats, artist, mom, student, wife, friend and back again. I MISSED this so much. The assignments from both classes were every bit of a lot and a little of all of what I needed. My professor, Jackie Decker, was amazing, joyful and was the perfect cure to my missing artist.

I know time and perspective have a lot to do with perception but my youthful art making days were filled with dark, intense, questioning, and provocative artwork all of which I loved. I was even a snob about pretty things, I was anti sweet and beautiful things. We joked about it, I still have a prickly edge going on today but nothing like the past. I didn’t mean to and as you can see below, that edge is still there. But is different now.

Wasteland Warrior
Emperor Tamarin as Samurai
Aloe Vera-fruit, flower, veggie portrait

I bring all this up to say that not only did I tap into my flow and get into my creative groove but I also found a way into making art that is sweet, and yes, beautiful. I have experienced so much trauma in my life, I deserve to be able to make art that is free of that. In our first critique in the illustration class, I was expecting what I was familiar with- harsh, critical and even brutal. Please do not get me wrong. I thrived on that, like give it to me because I want my work to be the best. However, that is not how this professor works. She moved and spoke from a place of joy and sweetness and she uplifted her students, and more importantly -ME.

All excuses aside I showed up to my final for electronic drawing and painting with what I consider unfinished work. I have an idea that has been in my heart for a few years now and I have not been able to translate it to paper. I decided to attempt the ideas for my final. It took me a while to “just do it”. With starting a new job and the kids’ baseball and life there really wasn’t much time to “finish it”. And without getting caught up in all the art speak, my unfinished pieces were in fact perfectly finished. After hearing the responses from my classmates and my professor I was filled with such emotion I wanted to cry. Not unusual for me but it is a truth. Pure joy – wow.

The details of my ideas are not a surprise to my family and friends. I have been wanting to write and illustrate a children’s book but I was not happy with my ideas. They were not illustrating a feeling that I wanted to portray. However, I never imagined that by the end of my semester class I would be closer to my goal … and well, I am! I have set my summer plans in motion. 20-30 illustrations ? Agent finding me a publisher? Publisher saying yes?

Rio Bakes Cakes. I am a boy and I bake cakes. I made these images in Procreate.

My boys inspire me in so many ways. The baking experience brought joy to our whole family. We learned to love deserts and we even became aficionados, aka desert snobs. This story is about that joy of learning, living, loving and just being. I thank my boys everyday for what they have taught me. Through my art classes this semester I was able to find my way. I am forever grateful. A book is in the works.

Knowing the Value of Something…

/ Marlo / 1 Comment

December 31 is my brother’s birthday, and in honor of him I decided to write. Back in February, I started the process to become certified to teach in the state of CT. Although I have taught in private schools and college, I still have quite a bit of work that is expected of me, 18 credits, a US History course and passing the Praxis test. My first class was in June and I took three this fall. Be grateful that you didn’t have to experience my whiny self, figuring out the details of how to become certified. Let me tell you, I whined a lot, even cried.

What I want to talk about is the transcripts. I had to purchase and send my transcripts to the state and to every college that I planned to take a class at. I had a paper copy of my graduate school transcript sent to my house. When I opened it, I gloated, felt proud of myself and gave my own self a pat on the back. I graduated with a 3.82 GPA. However, I did not have a transcript from my undergraduate school sent to my house. I am not sure of my reasoning but it will become clear, and maybe, in the end, it really doesn’t matter. When I opened the email to see my transcript, my jaw dropped. Um yeah, I am not even sure where to start.

I created a story about myself. This story I thought was a truth, until this past summer, when I realized it is not. It is easy to forget things that are hard. I am not sure how many of you know how difficult my undergraduate experience was, especially in the beginning.

The story that I remembered about myself is that I only failed a couple of classes and got a couple of D’s at UCONN. But the truth is I got like ten or more D’s AND failed classes in my five years at UCONN. After seeing my transcript, this past Spring, I was left kind of speechless. If I could paint my cheeks red I would. I was so embarrassed and I had to share this information, again! My grades were terrible!

I would like to back track a bit. Because in reality why am I embarrassed? A lot happened but my worth is more than a grade. As I was looking for a photograph to share in this post I found this from my brother. It appeared like a kiss from above.

Considering that I wanted to honor my brother today, he in turn is honoring me and asking me to honor myself. I love you Joe.

In my freshman year, I failed two classes and got at least one D. I can come up with so many reasons as to why, but is it worth writing it down? I wasn’t prepared, I didn’t care, I partied too hard, I was working multiple jobs and on and on. I was the only Latina in my dorm. It was the first year they stopped allowing kegs in the dorms and I lived in an area that was called the Jungle at UCONN. That name speaks for itself.

My required classes were a series of unfortunate events. My Astronomy professor liked to stand with his foot on the chair in his cheesy track suit, basically putting his crotch in my face, eventually I moved to the back of the huge lecture hall. I barely passed the class. My History professor gave me a D- minus on my first paper of the class. I wrote about the men, in All Quiet on the Western Front, as creating a force together. He wrote on my paper, “This is not Star Wars” and didn’t offer to help me correct my paper. My Philosophy teacher refused to work with me, he told me that some people just don’t get that part of his class and pushed me out the door. My drawing teacher made fun, commented and pushed and poked at me. He was relentless, eventually I stopped going. To be fair, I had a handful of amazing art professors that helped make me the person I am today. The only thing I truly remember for any of the required classes was an anthology of British writers from the 19th Century for an English class.

It only took me five years, but I did graduate. A lot worked against me but I was bigger than all of it. I started my sophomore year of college with my mouth wired shut. I was in a terrible car accident that I caused, in which I survived with only a broken jaw and thankfully no one else was hurt. Although, there was much pain for me and my mom and my family, something huge happened because of that accident. I squeaked out of the claws of alcoholism and never looked back. My jaw reminds me every day of that accident.

I was 18, just a baby. It took me a couple of years to be accepted into the art school at UCONN. Eventually, I found my way and graduated with a Bachelor’s in Fine Arts with a focus in photography. I finished my education with a Master’s in Fine Arts also with a focus in photography at University of Hartford, Hartford Art School.

I have created this blog for my kids. I want them to know that some things in life don’t come easy. Sometimes they are so hard we forget the hard part for a reason. A grade or GPA does not define a person, or me or my worth.

With my grandmother Rena, and my mother, Pam, who looks like a baby herself here in this picture, at my high school graduation. The photograph itself is a bit mistreated, I did not alter it. There is no picture of my graduation from UCONN.