Another Odd Duck

Remember this? Donald in Mathmagic Land

I recall seeing this in film format, back in the days of projectors and traditional film in classrooms. In our case, the entire school viewed the film. I was absolutely fascinated.

This animation by Disney attempted to convince kids that math was important. Even though it utilized animation and a familiar character, this little film did not awaken math for my fellow students, rather, it cemented their dislike.

Not to pick on my daughter-in-law, but when she uttered the words, “I hate math,” I was compelled to show her the video of Donald. Yes, I have a copy. Her poor face contorted into a twisted ball of raw pain. This experience, at her expense, really enlightened me. Start with art. She, too, is a photographer. We can talk about f/stops, shutter speeds and light temperature without missing a beat.

Since drawing is innate to a child, really to the human creature, it is a more functional approach to utilize art to teach math and science rather than trying to tell people the reason they like art is math.

The paper Drawing on Student Understanding, Using illustrations to invoke deeper thinking about animals., By Mary Stein, Shannan McNair, and Jan Butcher exemplifies a more modern approach to recognizing the interwoven nature of art and science.

The enrichment program I started in middle school and continued through high school lacked this interrelatedness. A few successful instructors invited all disciplines for students to expand their understanding of the world around them. For most, however, they appreciated math and tolerated art in student achievement.

Years later, as I bring my personal art out of hiding, I am awakened to a sense of wholeness.

Odd Duck

I was different.

One of the boys grabbed the snake from her cage, she bit him. He dropped her and she quickly hid behind textbook boxes. The kids all stepped back. When I reached into the six-foot boa’s hiding place, she calmly slid into my hand. We became friends. It was the first week of school, I turned 11 that week. I liked drawing pictures, racing bikes, climbing trees, snakes, and math. I was an odd duck.

In all fairness, I understand her perspective. The program instructor from Seed Planted 4. When the program instructor told me that I was not good at art, that I should focus on math and science. I was crushed. She did not do this to be mean, she was trying to help me. The circumstances were such:
I lived in a poor community.
I was from a poor family.
I did not have a good home life.
I had a high math and science aptitude.

The instructor viewed math and science as my way out of cultural poverty. This was back in the days, those unenlightened days, of girls don’t like math. I was an odd duck. I liked math and was good at it. The numbers just made sense. So when she announced that I had a class where I could learn anything, I said, “I want to learn to draw,” my request did not sit well with her plan for my future.

Truth be told, I don’t think she relayed the message from the expert who looked at my art. I did not receive direct feedback. It came from the instructor, not the source, and the instructor had an agenda.

The saving grace for growing up. My favorite teacher. My grandparents.

Art finds a way in, no matter the path we take.
When the front doors are closed, we may just find a back door left ajar and have a chance to sneak bliss on the naysayer’s watch.

A back door opening

I put my drawing supplies away from view. I still sketched in secret, but it grew less and less.
I focused on math and science.
My next grade change in our three room school included a new teacher. For a science lesson, we made pin hole cameras. A section of our class was converted into a makeshift darkroom. My spirits energized as I watched the image come to life. This was our science class, but I saw art as the light painted image in the emulsion emerged.

I started saving my babysitting money and the pay I received for my after school job to buy a camera. It was clear to me that the science of photography could feed my creative passion.
The back door was left open and I slipped in.