The Story of Ruth Parker Eason School & CAC
by Mia Halton
Congratulations to AACPS 2020 Partner of the Year honoree, Chesapeake Arts Center! Winners announced tomorrow! Special thanks to our Headline Sponsor M&T Bank! @ChesapeakeArts @RuthEasonAACPS @MandT_Bank #PartnersInEducation #AACPSAwesome pic.twitter.com/oHvctNSFiE
— Partnerships, Development & Marketing (@aacpspartners) June 22, 2020
A note before the blog:
This blog was written by artist and CAC ceramics instructor Mia Halton about her experiences teaching a group of students from Ruth Parker Eason School (RPE). Our wonderful partnership with RPE continues to grow and we were humbled and honored to be nominated by them as an AACPS 2020 Partner of the Year.
We hope you enjoy Mia’s story of how it all began!
This is a blog about my experiences teaching Ceramics to a group of students from the Ruth Parker Eason School. I’ll be writing about events as I remember them, not necessarily in the order in which they occurred. And, of course, there are the myriad ways in which facts are colored by memory and love.
As I understand it, six years ago, a group of students from the Ruth Parker Eason school was introduced to the Chesapeake Arts Community when the school brought some students to the center to attend a performance of the National Players. They loved the show and the school has continued to bring students to the center whenever an opportunity for a field trip comes up. The relationship between school and center began to develop. Ruth Eason students work in the Arts office from time to time. And then two years ago, students from Visual Arts UMBC collaborated with the Ruth Eason students. Guided by the CAC MakerSpace manager, the groups joined together as they created toys for kids for Christmas.
I teach ceramics to groups of developmentally challenged populations and, during the summer of 2018, I was working at CAC with a group of adults from Parks and Rec. There was a young man in that group who caught my attention in a unique way. He’s a bright and very talented artist and person. I asked him if he would be interested in working with me one on one. He said yes, and then we began. Because of his specific needs, he was more comfortable sitting on the floor to work. Using materials they had on hand, the manager of the MakerSpace CAC built a low, suitable table. This young man created large vessels, glazed, and painted with imagery depicting his life, history, and beliefs. He also created spoons, bowls, and plates that could be used by people unable to use standard functional ceramic pottery.
The CAC administrators liked the way in which I was working with my one-on-one student and discussed the idea of bringing a group from Ruth Eason to experience a hands-on ceramics class. When I was asked to teach it I said; “Sure!” At that point I knew nothing about the school or students. I was trusting my friends on staff who asked me, and, more importantly, I just had a hunch it would be a fit.
I’ve been an artist all my life using primarily drawing, painting, and printing materials. I’d played around with clay but didn’t start working with it seriously until six years ago, after my mother was left seriously brain damaged by a hit and run driver. I was devastated. Punching, smacking, and pulling the clay helped me channel some of my pain.
I quit my job so I could help take care of my mother. She had two brain surgeries followed by long months of in-patient rehab. There were around 30 people getting rehab, in one large space. I watched day after day as these people worked to recover, to find a way back, to re-inhabit their bodies and minds. Those days changed my life irrevocably.
Four years ago, I taught my first group of developmentally challenged students, at Baltimore Clayworks. I felt like I’d come home to a place inside of myself that had been waiting for this teaching experience. I continued working with the Arc, with a group of young adults with Downs Syndrome, and with the National Federation of the Blind. I believe that my experiences with my mother gave me insights into how to work with these populations.
I hadn’t visited the school or met any of the students or teachers before I committed to working with the RPE students. I wasn’t sure what to expect. I’ve been teaching for a long time. I feel confident in the classroom and have a large reservoir of experience. The areas in Art that I’ve taught are primarily drawing, painting, and printmaking. I’m relatively new to using and teaching ceramics but at this point it’s the only medium I’m interested in teaching. The material is uniquely suited to adapting to each student’s abilities.
On October 22, 2019 I set up the ceramics studio for my first meeting with the RPE group: three elementary, three middle, and three high school aged students, and their helpers. I’d finished setting up, early as usual. I’m always a little nervous before I meet a new group and was most likely checking my phone when I heard the elevator thump down to the basement level of the building. The ceramics studio at the CAC is located on the basement level of the building. I heard a couple of squeals and what sounded like the clatter of equipment. I quickly stepped out into the hallway and, there were my students, with their aides and teachers. It’s hard to explain how beautiful that was. Try to imagine an exquisite parade of humanity, and you might get close.
I stepped back into the classroom so I could greet each student individually. I happened to have put a large, oblong piece of clay onto a table just inside of the classroom and to the right of my students as they entered the space. I quickly decided that it might be fun to ask them to slap it on their way into the room. The experience was an immediate introduction to clay, and, for me, I was able to see right away who could “slap” and who couldn’t.
Teaching is all about reaching individual students where they are. I’d never, however, worked with a group of people with such serious disabilities. There were two wheelchairs, and one student with a trachea. His head moved from side to side and he could barely move his fingers. Only a couple of them could make themselves understood. Two of the students had trouble managing their behavior and had to be taken out of the classroom. As I worked feverishly to keep up with teaching the lesson I’d planned, I wondered if this was going to work.
And I wondered if it was fair to some of the kids. I was concerned, in particular, with the student with the trachea, who couldn’t relax his fingers enough to grasp the clay. I asked myself why he should be made to attend the class. I had a lot to work out in my head and heart, in a very short period of time. I spoke with my friend Tyler, the Director of Education at CAC. He’s a good friend with acute instincts about people. After expressing my concerns, he didn’t really say anything. I realized that he trusted me to figure it out, and that I could make peace with my dilemma.
It’s important to me to give my students an enriching experience and, if I couldn’t do that, then what was the point? That was day one. On day two of the class I asked his nurse if the student with the trachea was enjoying himself. She looked at me and said; “Didn’t you hear him squealing as we came down in the elevator?”
On November 5, 2019 I was joined by Tina, a fine teacher and ceramics artist. She was a welcome addition and assistant. We were still following a traditional handbuilding curriculum. By that I mean creating bowls, cylinders, and sculptures using a variety of techniques including pinching, coiling, and making slabs. The students were engaged, for the most part, but Tina, the teachers and I were completing the projects. Something about that was bothering me. We continued this way for the full eight weeks but my mind was racing to figure out a different format.
When I think back to that first session I don’t remember the finished projects. I remember the smiles and laughter as the students approached the studio to have their class. Tyler and I like to share memories of one little guy who continually asked; “Where ya goin’?” After a couple of times responding that I wasn’t going anywhere, I realized that it wasn’t about an answer; he and I were engaging with each other. There was the time when a quiet, talented student lightly touched my hand to get my attention. She felt proud, and wanted me to see what she had done. There were no words, but her face said it all. Another student clapped delightedly for herself when she responded to a question I’d asked the class. We all joined in with her.
On December 12, 2019 Tyler visited the RPE School. We’d made an appointment with Amy Guerke, the Principal. We had projects to deliver but, more importantly, we wanted to advocate for the students coming back to CAC for another session. What a happy, busy place. We were guided through hallways with walls covered in art, and given the opportunity to visit several classrooms. The lights were dimmed in those rooms, and there was plenty of space to move around.
In preparation for the students’ return, on February 2, 2020, Tyler and I decided to use a larger classroom for the students, one where the lights can be dimmed. The height of the tables in this new space could more effectively accommodate the wheelchairs. We set it up for ceramics, and waited for the students to return.
The other important change that I’d been working on was the curriculum. So often, what we remember from an academic course isn’t the contents of it as much as what our experience was like. I believe that, if we’re engaged in the process, we will have a positive experience and will be more likely to remember the material. I decided that, instead of focusing on finished products I’d concentrate on small steps, and process.
On the first day of the new session I asked the students to pick up the slab that had been placed in front of them. This was followed by a series of short instructions: wave the slab in the air, place it back down on the table, cut it into pieces, stack the pieces, and so on. They worked a bit more as a group and could help each other with the simplified tasks. Bowls and sculptures were still created but the process was more creative, and more about the students themselves.
Because of the onset of Covid the session was cut short. I miss the kids, and that teaching. I’m a seasoned, experienced teacher, honored to take on the challenge of working with kids from the RPE School. I’m so looking forward to seeing them again.
-Written by Mia Halton, Ceramics Instructor at CAC