Stepping Aside as the "Chief Art Critic" in the Classroom

Over the course of the first couple years of my teaching career, I saw a need to distance myself from the role of Chief Art Critic in my classroom. This is a role that perhaps too many art teachers perform with too much relish. I could see very clearly that the more I played this role, the more I was denying my students one of the most important lessons art has to teach us all--how to critically and honestly evaluate ourselves and the work we do.

Every art teacher will recognize this scenario. You are sitting at your desk or working with a student. A student approaches you, project in hand, and sets the project in front of you. The student says nothing and just looks at you, as if he or she is waiting for you to say something. This is what I would call the "silent request for the rubber stamp."

In this scenario, the student doesn't actually ask for your approval, but that is exactly what she or he is doing. Here's the remarkable thing about this scenario, which is extremely common in the art classroom (and probably in every classroom). The roles of "teacher" and "student" are so firmly ingrained in both teachers and students that the student does not need to vocalize their desire for evaluation and approval of their work. Both student and teacher understand the roles so completely and are so comfortable with them that words are not necessary. After several dozen of these unspoken requests for my "rubber stamp," I decided to make a priority of breaking down these roles in my own classroom.

So, here's a scenario that is fairly typical of the way I began to handle these situations. Just for the record here, Ashley is no student in particular. She is an amalgamation of a whole slew of students, male and female, with whom I have had this type of exchange

(Student approaches. Sets project in front of me.)

Me: Hey, Ashley. What's up?

(Ashley remains silent. Glances at her project. Looks at me, waiting for my response.)

Me: How's your project going?

(Ashley shrugs.)

Me: Oh, now, really . . . You don't know? Well, how do you feel about it?

Ashley: (finally speaking) I don't know. (pause) Is it good?

Me: Hmm. Lemme look. (Pause) What do you think?

(Ashley shrugs again.)

Me: Okay, well, tell me . . . what do you like best about it? What's your favorite part of the painting?
(Yet again, Ashley shrugs.)

Me: (with great seriousness) He, you know when I was your age, I used to shrug all of the time like that, and you know what happened? (She shrugs again.) I started to develop this nervous habit where I would just shrug for no reason at all. (I shrug) And it's gotten to the point where I'm not even aware when it happens (I shrug again). And even when I know it's happening (shrug) I can't (shrug) stop (shrug) myself. (shrug - shrug).

(Ashley starts to smile and tries not to laugh.)

Me: Okay, so what part of the painting did you enjoy doing the most?

Ashley: (hesitantly) The waves in the ocean, I guess.

Me: Really? Wow, you know, I would have guessed that because they look really great. It looks like you had a lot of fun doing them. The brush strokes have a lot of energy in them and it looks like you were being really playful with color--the different shades of blue, aqua, and I see that there's even a little bit of purple that you splashed in there.

Ashley: Yeah, I like purple, but I wondered if it was wrong for me to put it in there.

Me: No WAY! It looks awesome. Hey, don't be afraid to follow your instincts like that. What do you think of the purple?

Ashley: I like it.

Me: Good! and you know what? If you like it, other people will too. I mean, I like it.

(Ashley is smiling more)

Ashley: Okay, but what about the dolphin?

Me: Okay, what about it?

Ashley: Well, it doesn't look right.

Me: Why not?

Ashley: I don't know. I just don't like it.

Me: Okay, well why not? I mean what is it specifically that bothers you about it?

Ashley: Well, it just looks fake.

Me: What do you mean by that?

Ashley: I don't know. It just looks flat and, like, there's no water splashing around it. I mean the waves look really real and the dolphin . . . it just looks, I don't know, . . . fake.

Me: Okay . . . Well, I have good news and bad news.

(Ashley's eyes widen. She's waiting for the shoe to drop)

Me: You're absolutely right. The waves do look great. They're very convincing. And this dolphin isn't fitting in right now. It's kinda flat, and I think you're right that it needs more detail like splashes and stuff.

Ashley: so . . . what's the good news?

Me: That's it. It's both. You just told me what's bothering you about the painting and that's your key to how you can make it better, how you can make it something you're more satisfied with.

Ashley: Oh. So, I'm not done?

Me: Hmmm. Well, that's entirely up to you at this point, but would it satisfy you to say you're done right now?
Ashley: Not really.

Me: Good. Y'know, you've worked really hard on this for a week now. You owe it to yourself and you owe it to the painting to make it the best it can be.

Ashley: I know.

Me: Hey, honestly, it's up to you. Don't do this for me. Right now, you have a really cool painting, and you know exactly what you need to do to make it even cooler.

Ashley: Well, I was gonna give it to my mom for her birthday next week.

Me: All the more reason why you should make it something you really, really like. Look, your mom is going to hang this up in your house, right.

Ashley: Yeah, she hangs up all of my paintings.

Me: Well, if you don't work on this dolphin, it's going to bug you every time you look at this painting. Save yourself the anguish (laughing)

Ashley: (laughing too) Yeah, okay. But how do I make the dolphin look better, more real?

Me: Well, take a look at it. What do you think it needs?

Ashley: Well, splashes, but I already said that. (pause) It doesn't really have any shadows.

Me: Right. You have a nice mid-tone here, but it does need some darker shadows. Can you think of anything else?

Ashley: (pause) Highlights. It needs reflections because it's wet and the sun would be reflecting off its skin.

Me: Exactly. Hey, let me know if you need any advice on mixing colors, but I would say try your colors out on a scrap of paper first so you can see if they look right. Okay?

Ashley: Okay. Thanks.


Obviously, I could have saved a great deal of time by simply "rubber stamping," by approving of the waves, telling Ashley to "put some shadows and highlights on the dolphin and a few splashes of water around it," and sending her on her way. However, that's teaching by the rules of the constant sum game, and contrary to appearances, both teacher and students lose out.

Teaching by the rules of the constant sum game (where you assume that the time you take following a student's individual interest is time you lose in teaching the standards) is teaching for short term gain and not with life-long learning in mind. I would argue that, for many reasons, constant sum game teaching is less effective and, despite appearances, more work and less efficient for teachers.