With a few gentle strokes of her brush, my grandmother brings life to a dull canvas. Tiny marigolds begin to emerge, as a youthful smile draws across her aging face.
"It's not yet a masterpiece," she says, "but it is a start."
Years later, after shaping and toning each one to perfection, her bouquet is finally complete. I expect that she'll allow it to brighten every gallery wall in the city. But she hangs it above her sofa, content with brightening the walls only of her living room.
I soon discover that it's not important to my grandmother whether people see her paintings, or even whether people like them. It's the art itself - the process of creating such treasures - that means so much to her.
As a teacher, I'm reminded of my grandmother each autumn as test scores are released. I think of how all the pressures of accountability sometimes force us to focus on the end product of improving scores rather than on what matters most - the child.
It's as if we're artists painting to please the critics, losing sight of our own treasures along the way.
I'm not calling for a change in the system. There has to be some way to measure how effectively Kentucky core content is being taught.
I do believe, however, that when those dreaded scores are released, teachers should not be consumed by the results. No matter what the scores reveal, let's keep our focus on creating curious minds and instilling in every student a true love for learning.
Let us never forget what it's like to see that sparkle in a child's eyes when first learning to read, or the sight of a struggling student making leaps and bounds within the course of a single school year. Let us never forget why we became teachers.
The more I think of it, maybe we are artists. Our canvases come in many shapes and sizes, with different textures, too. Some are smooth and easy to work with. Others are rough to the touch, requiring a little more effort. Our strokes have to be gentle as well, for the hearts and minds we shape last a lifetime.
My newest creation is under way, now that the first month of school is complete. As for my class? It's not yet a masterpiece, but it is a start.
Aaron Himebaugh is an Upper Primary teacher at Grant's Lick Elementary School in Campbell County.
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