A Plea for Art in Public Schools

    Creating has always been a therapeutic experience for me, a coping mechanism. For as long as I can remember, I've been drawing, making, cutting, pasting--creating. Art allows me to take my energy and emotion and channel it into something beyond myself.  

    I have been creating as an "artist," since middle school. When I was about twelve, I did all of my art in black and white or plain gray pencil. I was afraid to express myself in color. I was afraid to mess up my work. I was afraid to live vibrantly. I was also in a deep state of depression which can account for my choice of medium.

    Now, I am at a better place in my life. My art is full of color and whimsy. It is full of quotes, flowers, metallics, and happiness. It's a different time. A new type of art for me. A different stage if you will. Picasso had his "blue period," and I had a gray period. And I still have my gray days.

One of my most recent hand lettering projects

    Art is so beautiful, messy, weird, and fascinating, and it is dying in our public schools. How are kids supposed to express themselves in ways that they never expected? How are they supposed to dream and wonder? We must keep art in our public schools to give young people an outlet to communicate without saying a word. Art is powerful and has the ability to change lives. Children need to be exposed and immersed in it during their education experience in order to learn and grow as humans.

A page from my high school Narrative Project

    For me, art class was an escape. An escape from the chaos around me. A place where I could just focus and learn. I could listen to Nora Jones and the Red Hot Chili Peppers while I cut and pasted magazine pieces into the negative space of my still life. It was my favorite part of my day. However, the quality of art education that I received beyond middle school is not what I would call education. The classrooms were messy, unorganized, and the teachers didn't teach technique, style, or even art history. They didn't teach at all. The supplies were few and far between or ruined due to lack of care. Once I was in college, I was given the opportunity to take an Art Appreciation class taught by a teacher with so much passion. She talked about art in a way that allowed me to devour it, and I was utterly amazed. I will never forget her giving me that experience. 

A page from my Narrative dedicated to
Warhol

    Art has helped me through the bad, it has allowed me to shine through the good, and it has given me a voice when I was too afraid to speak. Art is so important. I will never stop, and we must make sure that the next generation is exposed to it. Without art, the world is lackluster. Without art, the world's beauty and future voices are stifled.

    My first love in the art world was Claude Monet with his water lilies and Paris landscapes in middle school. Then, came Andy Warhol with his bold use of color and line in high school. After that, I discovered the likes of Yasumadsa Morimura and his self protraits and Maria Abramovic in The Artist is Present in college. Now, I'm in love with the typography of Kimothy Joy.  I will always be a viewer, appreciator, and creator. 

    Art has influenced my way of thinking and my view of the world. It has shaped me as a person. I hope my children and their peers can say the same. Do what you can to save the fine arts in our public schools by writing your local school board a letter, by donating to Americans for the Arts, or by directly donating to your school's art program.

Here are a few pieces of my art--a now and then if you will.

Two of my latest hand lettered pieces

Three of my paintings from 2016

Two of my very first collages created at least 12 years ago

Thanks for reading! Don't stop creating!

Stacy

The New Normal

    Many individuals, myself included, struggle with mental illness or some type of disorder. For me, depression accompanied by anxiety has been a part of my story, since I was 11 or 12 years old. Mental illness is overtly stigmatized in our society. People who live with a mental illness and are open about it are very often unfairly stereotyped at some point as "crazy," "insane," or "out of control." This type of language surrounding mental illness is harmful. When used, it can cause the individuals struggling to withdraw and can potentially reaffirm what they already feel about themselves which could lead to an episode or worse. Normalizing mental illness is my only solution to this problem. We should actively try to learn more about mental illness through research, we should discuss it often, and we should support one another to eliminate unnecessary shame. It's okay to have a mental illness. It's normal. 

Me, around the age of my first episode

    I had my first depressive episode during the 8th grade. This may sound hard to believe, especially of someone so young, but this is not as uncommon as you may think. The suicide rate for young people ages 15-24 as reported by the American Foundation for Suicide Prevention in 2015 was 12.5%. This number is alarming to say the least and only increases with age. As a teacher and a once depressed young person, --not saying that I am cured merely that I am no longer what I consider to be a young person--I worry. I worry about my past students so much. I want them to have resources, and I want their friends and parents to be able to recognize the warning signs and triggers and understand the coping mechanisms. I want normalization for that lonely, distraught, terrified 8th grade girl.

    For me, my depression coupled with anxiety are like two dancing shadows. They are dressed in a black darkness and glide up behind me while I am trying to stand in the light. They're inviting me to dance, and I have no say in whether or not I will accept their hands in invitation. 

    In this video posted by Button Poetry, the speaker describes what depression is like for her through spoken word poetry. The poem tells her story and fight to have her mental illness recognized as valid by her mother:

    This video is so powerful, because you can hear the cries of approval. You hear the speaker's voice and the voices of others overcome by affirmation of their like minded feelings.  I know I will always have bouts of depression, but videos like this give me hope. Hope that we are building a community of support.

    If things become too bad with my depression, I know that I can seek support in other ways. I can do this through counseling when needed, and I have through Multi-County Counseling of Oklahoma. Their services are amazing. I also know there are other resources out there like the Suicide Prevention Lifeline, the Trevor Project, and online support groups. Not everyone knows this or has access to these resources which is why we have to spread this information like our lives depend on it. Because the life of someone we know, very well could.

Tell people how you feel. Offer support. Be there.

    There is a popular show on Netflix right now called "13 Reasons Why" based off the young adult novel that demonstrates the need for access to resources and support systems.  It brings to light the fact that people with depression who are contemplating suicide rarely reach out on their own. The story that is depicted throughout the series is about a girl, Hannah Baker, who takes her life and the 13 reasons that lead her to the decision. If you notice someone withdrawing like Hannah, then you should go to them. Plead with them. Tell them of their value to this world. We have to try.  We have to communicate.

WE can't give up.

  

    

    In order to enact change, we have to offer support and as much understanding as we can to anyone suffering from a mental illness, so people know with assurance that they aren't in this dance alone. There are so many of us. Each defined by our unique experiences yet existing as parts of the same whole. We all make up the face of mental illness. We need to redefine how the world views us. We are here. We are people trying our best everyday. We want life, and we want a sense of normality. We may not always know how to get their by ourselves, so please offer any help you can to aide in the cause for normalization. We are the new normal; it's time we all accepted it.

    At times, mental illness can be so debilitating, but when we stand together there is hope for the future. Hope for the next generation. The more we talk, listen, research, and attempt understanding--the more we do-- the better things will become. Have hope. We can end the stigma together.  

Thanks for reading,

Stacy

My Truth: An Examination of Perception

    I have always struggled with my perception of myself and the way I fit into this collage of a world. Am I a torn tattered piece ripped from a ratty and weathered magazine? Sloppy. Careless. Or am I a  piece snipped with the utmost precision? The lines and edges smooth and straight. Am I both?  Growing up an overweight female, an ethnically diverse one at that, in a predominantly white town in a country that capitalizes on the sexualization of women hasn't helped me grapple with my struggling perception of myself. I can tell you with assurance that after 25 internally warring years that I perceive myself as a body positive Hispanic woman.

Body positivity in a nutshell.

A collage I created in middle school. This was an attempt to define myself through my art. I was trying to give myself a voice when I  felt I didn't have one at all. I worked on this for years if that tells you anything. 

    The world tells me that many things are wrong with this idea of myself that I have crafted, molded, shaped and reshaped in my mind. I have only come to realize in the past few years that it is not me that is wrong, but the world and society in general. Why can we not be human with flaws and individual distinctions? And why is there this underlying pressure and system that exists and is forced upon women to adhere to? To be thin. To be quiet. To wear a smile always. To love a man. To be light skinned. To be dark skinned.

    In this world and the U.S. in particular, women are told who to be, how to be, and what to be from the day that they are born. I have been told by the women in my life--my entire life--to be "thin" or "curvy" but not "fat." I have been told to speak my mind and that I "can be anything," but as soon as I speak with conviction, power, passion, then I have been told that I am being too loud and that I need to reign it in. I am sorry if my truth--the truth I so desperately need to speak-- that has been welling up inside for my entire life beating its fists against my insides trying to break free just one hushed whisper is too loud for you. Not. Sorry. I am not going to be told who I should be so that I fit into society's idealized and outdated perception of a woman. I. Am. Not. I am a size 18 woman with belly overhang, cellulite, jiggly arms, and stretch marks. And I am beautiful. I love my body and everything that it does for me.

I am sure if you look at these photos long enough your implicit biases will start to activate, and you will be able to decide which photos show a picture of a white woman and which show a Hispanic one.   

What about these selfies?

    As I have made peace with my body, I have had to examine where my features originate from. They come from my mom who is white and my father who is white and Hispanic. This is who I am, and I can't change it. To say that I have not benefited from white privilege in my lifetime would be ignorant at best. And to say that I have never been discriminated against for looking Mexican and having a Hispanic last name would be even more so. No, I don't  think your jokes about my ethnicity are funny. They aren't cute or harmless. And neither are you. I might smile through them or even muster a small laugh, but I promise you that in my mind I am calling you an idiot. The interesting thing about my appearance is that I can look very white which I am. Or I can look Hispanic which I also am. It depends. My skin stays much much lighter in the winter and darker in the summer. If reading this, you do not think that this has impacted the way I am perceived and treated by others, then you're lying to yourself about how biased and discriminatory the world can be. How biased and unknowingly discriminatory you, yourself, can be. Lucky for me, I now have what would be considered a white last name through marriage. Or is it lucky? Or does it just make everything that much more complicated?

Does one of these images de-
pict a Mexican woman and one a Cau-
casion woman? Or do you just per-
ceive it to be that way? Why? They
are the SAME person.

    Take it from me, speak your truth as loud or as soft as you wish. By doing this, you can shape the perception of yourself. You can be a voice that advocates for yourself. You can be you--wholeheartedly you--and not what the world perceives you to be. Speak it now and release it from its internal cage. 

      

Thanks for reading,

Stacy

Nostalgic Ramblings of a Past Graduate

    Each year around this time, I become extremely reflective. I graduated high school 7 years ago and college 4 years ago. Where has all the time gone? How am I NOT still sitting behind a desk in a classroom in Seminary Hall listening to a lecture and discussion about Storm Front by Jim Butcher and all of Harry Dresden's wacky wizarding ways? I miss being a student as I am sure many of my past students that are graduating today will soon realize that they do as well. 

    It's a funny thing--growing older. You only become nostalgic about things in your life once they're in the past. But, I suppose as John Green theorizes in "Looking for Alaska," "imagining the future is a kind of nostalgia" in and of itself. As my past students go forth and pursue higher education and careers, I urge you all to only be nostalgic every now and again. Try not to long too much for the past, and try not to worry too much about the future. I know this is easier said than done. But try to live in the present moment, or you will miss the great things happening right now. 

    I know the future is scary, and many are terrified of things not turning out as expected. My life has definitely not gone according to plan. Don't plan too much. Life is going to smack you in the face with unexpected waves of darkness and trickles of happiness. You will need to learn to ride through the waves and immerse yourself in the trickles. This is the ONLY way I know how to cope with adulthood without letting the waves pull me under into the depths. Don't let the waves pull you under. Don't drown. 

     I wish you the best. Your generation is so awesome. You are way more politically and socially aware than my generation and even more so than the one before that. You give me hope. My only wish is that these words give you hope as you embark on an incredible and personal journey that you get to be the author of. You are writing your story. Every day.  Write it in loud bold colors if you want! Incorporate a slew of pictures. Whatever you do, make it your own. Congrats to the class of 2017.

Thanks for reading,

Stacy