Embracing Creativity in Education

Why This Age Matters

I taught in the PreCollege program at the San Francisco Art Institute, a five-week intensive for students between the ages of sixteen and eighteen. I had worked in the program the year before as a program assistant, and I already knew how meaningful that age could be. Adolescence is a threshold, a time when young people begin to ask fundamental questions about who they are and how they relate to the world. I found it to be an ideal moment for serious art making, not because students were trying to become artists, but because they were trying to understand themselves.

Art as a Way of Understanding

At SFAI, art making was taught as an interdisciplinary process. Technique and concept were inseparable. Students researched subjects they cared about, not to arrive at fixed answers, but to learn how to ask better questions. The more they observed the world around them, the more they began to understand their inner worlds. Art became a way of exploring identity rather than defining it.

My own art practice has always been about exploring identity through making.

Teaching as Shared Ground

I was a graduate of the school myself, and my own art practice had always been closely tied to everyday life. Teaching felt similar. Planning assignments, choosing materials, adjusting when things did not go as expected, and remaining open throughout the process. Teaching did not sit outside my practice. It became part of it.

From the beginning, I believed learning works best when it moves in many directions. While I introduced skills and concepts, I did not see myself as the sole source of knowledge in the room. Students brought their own experiences, interests, and ways of seeing. Over time, my role shifted from instructor to facilitator, creating space for exchange, experimentation, and shared discovery.

Learning in action — a moment shared with students during the program.

Letting the Work Lead

The class focused on screen printing, but I intentionally limited technical instruction. I wanted to leave room for students’ own expressions. Students were encouraged to combine printmaking with other techniques they had learned or were learning at the same time. Drawing, photography, sewing, performance, installation. Nothing needed to exist in isolation.

Originally, I had planned a series of assignments. But by the time students completed the second project, they were already imagining their own final works. They were ready. So I changed the syllabus. That decision still feels important to me. Instead of following a fixed plan, I followed the students.

Students’ creative ideas often extended into the world beyond the studio.

Learning Through Making

The final projects were diverse and personal. A boat installed outdoors, holding a storybook for people to sit and read. A hand-built kinetoscope using printed images. A performance staged inside a constructed room, complete with a bed covered in fabric printed with receipts collected during the program. Others printed on wood, canvas, fabric, and even the human body, combining printmaking with painting, collage, photography, and more.

As projects grew more complex, challenges emerged. Materials failed. Ideas shifted. Time became limited. But again and again, students found ways forward. When someone struggled, we worked through it together. Sometimes I had answers. Sometimes we searched for them side by side.

Throughout the course, I emphasized that mistakes were not interruptions to learning. They were part of it. The goal was not a masterpiece. Five weeks was never enough time for that, and that was never the point. What mattered was learning how to learn through making.

The Importance of Reflection

Reflecting on this journey, I realize how crucial it is to pause and consider the experiences that shape us. Each project, each moment of struggle, and each triumph contributed to a larger narrative. This narrative is not just about art; it’s about personal growth, resilience, and the courage to explore new ideas.

In this space of reflection, I invite you to think about your own experiences. What challenges have you faced? How have they shaped your understanding of yourself and the world? This process of reflection can be a powerful tool for growth. It encourages us to embrace our journeys, with all their twists and turns.

Still Unfolding

Looking back, I see that the threads of making, teaching, and learning have been weaving together for years—sometimes subtly, sometimes in moments of discovery that only become clear in hindsight. What began in that first classroom continues today at Play Full Ground, where students explore, experiment, and follow their curiosity through art and creative practice. The work unfolds differently for everyone, yet the underlying values remain the same: shared exploration, trust in process, and the quiet confidence that comes from learning by doing.

In every class, project, and conversation, those threads continue to connect past, present, and future—reminding me that art and education are not separate paths, but intertwined journeys that grow as we do.

A place for dreaming, learning, and exploration — values that continue in Play Full Ground.