Everything I Needed to Know,
I Learned from Auntie Mame
Kristen Rice
In my childhood fantasies of
my life as an artist, I often
imagined a life like Auntie
Mame’s*: plenty of disposable
income, a fabulous apartment, constant adventure, a
wealth of interesting friends, and a
bathtub full of gin.
Not once did I see
myself swimming
through the thick
waters of inner-city education; nor did I plan on a
less disposable income and a mediocre apartment, with nary a drop of
bathtub gin. Yet, here I am.
However, in my childhood fantasies, I also never could have imagined a life more artistically pleasing
or satisfying. There was no way for
me to imagine the enchantment I
would feel when a child discovers
her creativity. And there certainly
was no way for me to imagine the
adventure of Kindergarten students.
I find myself growing
stronger as an artist and
becoming increasingly
aware of art’s power to
heal, educate, and change.
The Power of Art
The problem with
my childhood fantasy is it left out
the responsibility
that comes with
having an ounce of
artistic talent. Before my serendipitous slip into public art education,
my art and my life were very selfish. As a young artist, I don’t think
that I ever realized how important
it was to broaden art’s purpose, nor
did I understand how, by extending
myself and my talent, my own art
would become more insightful and
satisfying. Teaching children in the
often very challenging setting of
the inner city allows me to fulfill
my responsibilities as an artist, and
in the midst of it all, I find myself
growing stronger as an artist and
becoming increasingly aware of art’s
power to heal, educate, and change.
Sometimes words like these seem
trite and sentimental. I don’t doubt
that if I were reading these very
words during my college years, I’d
be rolling my eyes and heaving an
exasperated sigh. However, I suspect there aren’t many of us in the
trenches who haven’t experienced
this same phenomenon.
Watching children learn to find
their creativity is a moving experience. It pushes us to learn more
about our own creativity; it reminds
us of how captivating crayons, construction paper, and glue can be; it
reassures us that our unorthodox
choice of becoming artists was a
good one, despite what our grandparents may have thought.
As it turns out, my life is really
quite glamorous like Auntie
Mame’s: exciting, adventurous, full
of fascinating people of all sizes,
creative, humorous . . . but . . . still
no bathtub gin. (It’s a lot harder to
make than you think! Don’t ask me
how I know.)
Kristen Rice is an elementary art teacher
at K.B. Polk Elementary in the Dallas ISD
District. queenkristen3@aol.com
*Auntie Mame is the title character from
a novel by Patrick Dennis.
