"Finished Not Perfect"
Sometimes You Need to Push Through Resistance
“Finished Not Perfect.” That’s my mentor’s mantra for his elementary school students. When he’s teaching art, he wants the students to silence the poop monster who tells them every idea is bad and they have no talent for art. He also wants the students to say, “Yes!” to every idea they have and to finish every art project they start. No wonder he wanted me to finish my practicum even though I broke down in tears three weeks from the finish line when I could not come up with an age-appropriate curriculum.
For the past five years, I’ve only taught adults writing. Now I was visiting a classroom full of third graders, observing an artist teaching comics. Luckily, comics and writing share a common thread: storytelling. Comics require a beginning, a middle, and an ending. They require a situation, a conflict, and a resolution. They must be exciting and engaging for an audience. All those things parallel the writing world. The only difference is that comics include drawings, and most writing doesn’t.
So, you would think I would have no problems coming up with something to share with the students. But I did. I got stuck thinking inside the box about how to bring my type of artwork into the classroom. When I finally emailed my mentor and my program director to say I was quitting, I was told I could not quit because it would set a bad example for the students and contradict everything my mentor had worked six weeks to build. I had to teach a lesson even if it wasn’t perfect.
But what I discovered during those six weeks is that I didn’t want to teach anyone anything anymore.
That was not an excuse. It was exactly how I felt.
What the director of the program told me was, “Even if you never teach again, you have to complete your practicum. So, share something personal with the students, let them see you vulnerable, like you’re being vulnerable with me. The truth will bond them to you.”
Art + Vulnerability = Lesson Plan
I chose to share my art journey after my concussion. I brought the doll art I made during my recovery. Even though we could not make doll art since we only had one hour together and doll art takes one week to make, we could draw something we loved that made us feel safe when our world felt uncertain.
The execution of the lesson plan did not go as envisioned. First, I did not anticipate the reactions of the students or their responses to the questions I asked. Some of them surprised me, especially the student who said I must have felt nervous after hitting my head and injuring my brain. Others were expected, such as the student who said I was sad during my recovery. Second, I forgot to demonstrate a drawing for the children to model. I just asked them to draw something that made them happy when they were experiencing those feelings we talked about (anger, sadness, nervousness), and I had to backtrack when I received twenty-six pairs of eyes staring blankly at me. Third, I did not manage the classroom energy well when I was transitioning the students from creating to sharing, and my mentor had to intervene. Overall, I gave myself a C for average.
Which was fine, I guess. I did not cry. I did not make any gross errors. I just didn’t nail it either. I presented what I had planned to do and say, and improvised when needed.
But I was in a daze afterward. I forgot my backpack in the classroom and had to go back to retrieve it before school ended.
After my presentation, my mentor asked if I housed a critical voice within me. Of course, I did. Who doesn’t? He said I did fine. The whole teaching gig is about collaboration. The students are responsible for their half of the learning. I can’t carry the weight of the entire enterprise. I never thought of teaching that way, but I can see how that perspective is true. I can give students information, but there will always be students who choose to ignore it.
And while I am uncertain whether I will teach again, I am positive of one thing: I completed my practicum demonstrating my mentor’s mantra, “Finished not perfect.”