Thank you, all my teachers. And thank you, their families.
Mr. Mills recently passed away. He was my high school art teacher, a subject I took for “fun”, my free pick. A subject I wasn’t very good at. I struggle with this creative medium, but I never gave up and won’t give it up.
I remember the weekly sketching homework. I remember the conversations on composition. I remember never being in the norm as to the focal point of any painting.
Yes, I never saw the same focal point just like I rarely interpreted the same poetic meaning.
Like my father, my teachers would not mark me wrong just because my view was different. Not that dad ever marked me wrong, LOL.
If I could back up my opinion. Show why my view was different, I didn’t fail the assignment. I might not get full marks, but I wasn’t forced into a box I didn’t fit.
I had my challenges in high school, social anxiety made life…interesting. And part of me has looked back and questioned those years. Not in the best of light.
However, I am grateful I wasn’t squashed into being someone else. Someone not me.
Thank you.