On the last day of school, after the students mostly left, I had a few that stayed around to help- Crystal, Ray and Sam (who is a girl), and some ex-students Josh and Jonathan (Crystal's brother and Sam's boyfriend respectively- Ray is Josh's boyfriend. They all live together in a happy house, except for Crystal who is here, there and everywhere.) Anyway, I was glad for the help- they moved textbooks, and cleaned, and Jon even moved the refrigerator outside for defrosting, and then back in again. They scrubbed away stray paint and other marks.... mostly hand prints. One of the curious things about teaching, and especially in art (though in other places as well- we just have more stuff that makes it accessible) is the impulse to leave a mark. It's not from the kids that are not engaged in the class- they could care less if they are remembered- but those who want to show that they *belong* to the space and that the space *belongs* to them.
The art bins- brought over from Pender years ago- are like that. Certain names come and go, but some of the signatures remain forever: "T.J. Halstead- I'll be famous someday!" (he is 30 now, and famous enough!). Jeff's pictures of 'Ms. King, nice and pritty' (Jeff was one of my 'special' kids- he loved drawing me, Sister Wendy the art critic, and all of his friends-) , 'attack of the stick dragons' (Monster, Pepper and Kyle- from their freshman year). Not-Grendels 'NG' signature which I keep finding in unexpected places, written very subtly (white on white, black on black. He moved away from us this year- we all still miss him). Crystal of course- and the previous art-chickas like her (Regina, Lily, Jen, Angelina, Neena- all of the same counter-culture, tattooed/pierced, free-thinking type)...all of the MHP tags. (The art room- here and when I was at Pender- has been claimed by the Maple Hill Posse forever. They even had their own dictionary- red cover, of course, at one time). Kids are funny like that.
Every year though I clean up- it is a ritual of transition, the washing and painting help the kids to move on to life after high school, and also aid in making our separation clear. We keep in touch, some of them, (behold the magic of facebook), but they don't *need* me anymore- they are grown and gone and it is time to let go. I paint over without regret, scrubb off happily- the things that remain have either achieved permanence through material (the marker on the bins lasts forever, the girls all leave art behind that lives in the room- as examples, ambiance, and magic), through subtly (NG's hidden signatures) or sentiment (the drawings by Jeff on the cabinet). MHP reappears as if by magic- or determination- because I *do* clean it off when I find it since it is gang-related. But they persist.
All of this is leading up to the explanation of the picture. After the kids stayed and cleaned and left, it was time for paperwork, graduation and all of the teacher things. I hadn't noticed that Josh had painted this on the door to the bin-closet, and when I saw it I was moved. It says "This was my home, my life began here". Later I found that someone had taken a photo of it on my camera- and this way I can have it, even when it is painted over. (and it must be~ part of the ritual. Along with the kool-aid man drawn in chalk by Kade Head, whose parents gave him the first name of Hunter.....so he is forever called Head Hunter....) But Josh's sentiment is important- and it is *not* about me, it is about the *space* and the *atmosphere*. In the art studio I have the overarching rule of tolerance, respect, 'peace and love'- which may sound hippish, and I suppose it is, but the main point is that everyone is welcome here- regardless. I don't care if you are black, white, brown, yellow, red, blue, orange....I don't care if you are straight or gay... I don't care if you are a fundamentalist Christian, a gang-banger, have piercings, purple hair, weave down to your highly decorated toenails or dress in full camouflage.... I don't care if you speak English, Spanish, Russian, Chinese or whatever else. You can be whomever you choose to be- IF you respect everyone else's right to be that way. No name calling, no teasing, no meanness. Different is ok.
That is new to many of these kids. Not the sentiment, but the idea that it is not only said, it is defended. (I defend it fiercely- I remember being picked-on because I was different, and what type of special hell that was. It doesn't happen in my class- ever. And if it does, I become the mama-bear extreme- you do not want to push that button). Anyway, it gives everyone a chance to be who they are- or at least who they are trying out at the moment. (Teenagers, as you know, spend quite a bit of time switching personalities until they discover themselves- in my mind, they have to be allowed to do this or they will explode later). So I think that what Josh meant, was that this was the first place that he was safe enough to be who he was, without anyone telling him that it was weird, or wrong, or actually- making any comment at all. Sometimes the most powerful lesson is the unsaid- not making a point of a difference, but acceptance *as they are*. It took me forever to learn this- and I hope to pass it on in some way.
Because I am at a cross-roads point (the possibility of a new job and Rochelle trying to lure me back to Pender.... thinking of what I really want from career and life and all those other deep thoughts- I am starting my transition to year 50 early, but it takes me awhile to process) I have been thinking about these things. I am extremely comfortable where I am- I have power, a fantastic studio, respect and love- I have the freedom I have earned by hard work to teach as I please. Do I really want to give those things up to start again in something else? Something where I will be the outsider until I learn the ropes? Is it complacency, fear or just plain laziness that keeps me here- or is there another reason? I know that I have made some decisions- I *am* going to apply for the job (with the full support and cheers of Mr. Owens- even though it would mean him adapting to city life), I *am not* going to Pender- that part of my life is past, and this is my place. Rochelle and Jerry can re-enchant Pender- I am needed here. I *am* going to spend more time thinking carefully about what I want eventually- I am still evolving- and, like the students, I need to spend some time in 'trying on' different personas before I shed my skin.
This *was* my home. My life began here. (the most important words for me to remember are: was, began. It is ok to say goodbye, and to change).
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