TEACHING PHILOSOPHY
Risograph-printed zine that I hand out to all students on the first day of class:
STATEMENT:
Understanding and supporting the creative process while creating a space for experimentation and play has always been central to my practice as a teacher. I can trace this back to my fifth-grade teacher, Ms. Reines. I fondly remember her peanut butter and jelly assignment, where each student wrote instructions on how to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich, and Ms. Reines stood in front of the class attempting to follow them mostly to failed results. The assignment used process and play experientially to show us, in real-time, how our words translated into action. No one won a prize for writing the perfect set of instructions that led to a perfect sandwich; in fact, I’m not sure a perfect sandwich was ever made. Ultimately, it didn’t matter. The exercise instilled a sense of playfulness and fun in the classroom and revealed that there are many different ways to make a peanut butter and jelly sandwich.
I want to teach students that there are many different ways to be an artist in the world. Likewise, there is no one-size-fits-all example of how to be a perfect student in my classroom. I provide the structure and instructions for students to interpret and make their own. I prioritize effort and originality over perfection, recognizing that each student has a distinct perspective, process, and way of engaging with the material. I see myself as a dramaturg of the classroom, someone who offers critical guidance and helps students reflect on the quality and meaning of their work. Clear communication and accessibility are central to my teaching philosophy, and over time I’ve learned that less is often more: providing space and time for each assignment, with clear scaffolding from start to finish, allows for both ease and experimentation.
I once joked to a friend that sometimes I feel like a stand-up comedian in my classroom. The jokes, the laughter, the occasional absurdity align with my artistic philosophy and my strong belief that humour has the power to transform and bring people together. By enabling laughter and play, students let their guard down and become more willing to take risks and experiment. In my first-year Creative Methodologies class, for example, each assignment begins with an in-class exercise that playfully introduces ideas for the main project. For the sculpture assignment, I provided a wide variety of children’s art materials on the first day it was introduced, and the class used Richard Serra’s verb list to experiment. We listened to music and chatted while working, like children in a fifth-grade art class exploring the materials and seeing what would happen. This embodied, playful approach opened new discoveries for students and reminded them that art-making is, at its heart, an act of curiosity and fun.
Alongside a sense of play and exploration, I teach students to be resourceful and to develop sustainable practices that extend beyond the classroom. In the Integrative Arts program, students regularly share their work publicly through projects ranging from grassroots interventions to curated exhibitions. I emphasize both the practical skills of self-production and the social impact of presenting creative work in public contexts. By producing and sharing their work independently, students gain confidence in their ability to bring ideas to life. In my Live Art Survey course at the University of Michigan, for example, students presented their final performance projects off campus in a basic black box space with limited resources. They hung their own lighting, arranged audience seating, ran sound, and publicized the event themselves. This experience put into practice the grassroots approaches we studied throughout the semester while cultivating essential skills in resourcefulness and production.
I’ve taken similar approaches in most of my classes, from teaching zine-making as an accessible way to share art and ideas, to transforming a storage closet on the third floor of the Center for Fine Arts building at York U into a creative hub for Integrative Arts students. There, materials ranging from duct tape and DIY lighting to projectors and a sewing machine are available for use. Experiences like these foster self-sufficiency and inventiveness, qualities I consider essential for contemporary artists navigating today’s economy.
In combination with this emphasis on experimentation and self-production, I also prioritize critical reflection and articulation. Students are encouraged to write about and discuss their ideas regularly. Within the Integrative Arts program, this reflective practice begins in my Creative Methodologies class, deepens in Ethics in the Arts, and culminates in the Interdisciplinary Arts Capstone Studio, where students complete a yearlong portfolio project integrating research, proposal writing, creative iteration, and professional development that leads to a final public presentation.
The ability to self-reflect is a key component of both grading assessment and my understanding of each student’s process. If students can describe their process, the challenges they faced, and what they would do differently next time they will get the most out of the course. While writing may seem secondary to art-making, it is through reflection that learning crystallizes. Just as in the peanut butter and jelly exercise, the real lesson emerges afterward when students look back, analyze what happened, and imagine how they might revise their “instructions” next time. That moment of reflection is where growth occurs, and that is what I prioritize as a teacher. I want students to leave my classroom with strong technical and reflective skills, and the ability to approach their work with curiosity and playfulness.