(back)

Art and Life

When I was thinking of who to write my report on, I thought of the people who have most touched my life.  My parents who I've already written about one hundred times.  My friends who I could never pick just one to write about.  Then the other people I see all the time at school, my teachers.  

I quickly scrolled through the rolodex of teachers in my mind, touching on my thoughts and memories of each of those teachers.  Then it quickly came to a screeching stop on my favorite teacher in middle school, Mr. Garret.

Mr. Garret was my sixth grade Art teacher in my first year of middle school.  Even though I was only eleven years old, coming into that class I already had my mind made up that art and I weren't going to be the closest of friends.  Mr. Garret knew that some of the people coming into his Art class weren't all going to love art, and he mentioned that on the first day.  The weight of the school was lifted right off my shoulders, and forever removed the pressure of trying to be the worlds best art student.

Mr. Garret was a tall slim man, always with his apron on and ready to dive right into a clay pot, painting, or into a quick sketch.  He walked around the school just that way almost as if he was expecting to trip over a pile of clay in the hallway, which he would immediately turn into a vase or pinch pot.  

Another characteristic I remember about Mr. Garret was that he always had a smile on his face.  He was never in any hurry to finish anything or get to anyplace, he was just working with what was put in front of him and doing the best that he could. Being in a class with thirty other people, we had many finishing on the first or second day and others that would take the whole week without finishing.  

Unfortunately I happened to be one of the people who would take most of the week and I just watched the finished kids walk around and talk and sketch the drawings of their next creation.  Mr.  Garret would never move on until everyone was finished and hadn't been rushed to finished, in other words, put out their maximum effort on every piece of work they tried.  If a student fell so far behind they couldn't keep up with anyone he would meet with the student after school or during lunch to help them try and finish all of the project.  

He also offered extra credit to students for doing drawing work outside of class and bringing it in to show him, which was a favorite of students who always did at home drawings.  Now they got rewarded just for bringing them in. Our teacher knew that this was our first year in middle school and that it was a big jump from grade school. He helped as many students with other classes and personal problems as he possibly could.  

He taught a lot more than just art, he taught us a lot about life and how to deal with problems.  Many students started taking their lunches into the art room and just talking with Mr. Garret and you could tell that there was nothing that he enjoyed more than that.  

Unfortunately, during our time in Mr. Garret's class, his mother passed away.  Most of the kids could tell when he walked in that something was different. That enormous smile wasn't there and he also lacked the usual spring in the step.  Mr. Garret told us that his mom passed away, and that he had to go back to Wisconsin for the funeral and family issues.  

A pause was heard throughout the room. A chair didn't move, a pair of lips didn't move, an eye didn't blink.  We sat for seemed like a whole day with no one moving, later after checking I found that is was only about 3 minutes, but the longest three minutes of my life.  Everyone could feel the pain, the pain for him, how bad we felt that our favorite teacher had to go through this.  No one knew what the rest of the period would be like, we all just sat there like an army waiting for its orders.  

Then one by one the kids in my class got off their chairs and walked over to give Mr. Garret a hug.  You could see the tears rolling down his eyes.  The tears of sadness for his mother and the tears of overwhelming happiness that his second love in life cared so much about him.

Mr. Garret taught me a lot about art, the world, and even myself.  It seemed as though each student had their own unique special bond with him.  Art wasn't my favorite class then and it still never will be, I wasn't given talent for drawing, or the patience for painting.  

Walking into that class in sixth grade was the most scared I've ever been, but walking out I leave with a new friend who has touched and brightened my life, and I know forever will make me a better person, and that I'll never forget everything that he's done for me.  This paper is for you Mr. Garret.

Article provided by