Profa Emily

"If you can teach here, you can teach anywhere."

That's what the teachers at Allen Elementary told me when I was student teaching. It was a rather tough school, so it was affirming to hear at the time.

I don't think they meant anywhere anywhere, but apparently I took those words as Gospel because here I am in rural Honduras with my first teaching job.

This memory from Allen Elementary came to mind on a stormy March morning. My backpack was all packed up after two days on a medical brigade in Quinito, Honduras, where us missionaries helped translate for doctors treating patients in under-resourced areas. I strapped my backpack on backwards so it hung off my belly, slipped a trash bag over my head, and punched some arm holes in my new outfit. Standing at the mouth of a river that poured out into the sea, I watched medical supplies being loaded into little motor boats as the rain pelted down. We piled into the boats on an angry gray sea, wondering if these puny little motors would hold up. Men from Quinito pushed us out into the ocean and waved from the shore to the gringos humming the Pirates of the Caribbean theme song.

The trash bags served more for warmth that anything, because every inch of me was soaked within a minute. Our little motor boats bounced from wave to wave with the lush green mountains barely visible beside us. Ironically enough, we took boats to Quinito because they were safer than the rugged terrain on the drive. With nothing to hold onto, I hugged my backpack where my life-jacket should have been. I smiled the whole 40 minute trip.

We clamored ashore at the resort where the medical brigade participants were staying. As for the missionaries, we had a 15 minute walk along the shore to the Finca. We adjusted our trash bags outfits and trekked on through the wind and the rain.

The moment we arrived at the Finca's beach gate was cinematic. Shivering from the cold and soaked to the bone, a group of gringos clung to the locked gate yelling for anyone who might hear. We looked like we had survived a plane crash and washed up on the shore. About ten minutes of shouting through the pouring rain passed before one of our Franciscan sisters found us and had mercy.

With a hot cup of coffee and a dry set of non-trash bag clothes, I unloaded my soggy backpack. I replaced my toiletries with paper, markers, rulers, and stickers, and I walked in the rain to the third grade classroom.

They said I could teach anywhere, right?

When I signed on to be a Finca missionary, I was under the impression that the two available positions were nursing or teaching English in the school. So I figured with my background in art education ( and speaking English), as well as my lack of being a nurse, I would go the English teacher route. But on the incoming missionary retreat, Nate our coordinator mentioned the possibility of teaching art, a role we could create just for me.

Together, we brainstormed and implemented the Finca's first art teaching role. Normally the homeroom teachers teach art three times a week, whether it be visual arts, music, or party decorations. Due to the universal condition known as --- teachers are overworked--- art class typically is not a priority, and the kids end up raking or coloring instead. When they do have art projects, they are usually taken off Pinterest, and every child's art piece looks identical.

But not with Profa Emily's art class, no, no. (That's what they call teachers down here -- Profa). Profa Emily's art class is full of adventure and mystery. The adventure comes from Profa Emily having no clue what's going on, and the mystery comes from Profa Emily speaking haphazard Spanish, so the kids have to take their best guess. It's a true learning experience for us all.

I teach first through sixth grade, one class per week per grade. Although to be honest, it's been two months and I still haven't taught first grade; somehow we never have school on Friday. That's not a ton of time in the classroom, but a lot of my time is spent creating in-depth lesson plans that teachers can use instead of Pinterest. My goal is to create a curriculum that the teachers can use when I leave the Finca.

I wrote a little song for the kids to sing at the beginning of class to remind them of expectations.

When translated to English, it starts with "In this class, we are artists, just like Frida Kahlo. And when I try my best, my art is never bad." It sounds way more cool in Spanish, I promise. The great thing about the song is that it led perfectly into our first project: self-portraits inspired by Frida Kahlo. The downside is that most of the kids think my name is Frida Kahlo.

Normally, I would have different projects for different ages, but all my classes started with this project for a number of reasons. 1) It gave them a chance to introduce themselves. 2) It allowed me to see where each student and each grade is at, both in terms of drawing and of classroom behavior. 3) Self-portraits by nature have to be unique. Seeing their art projects from previous years showed me that these students have been taught that art projects have one correct result. This project was a good introduction into creativity, but still had enough structure for them to feel comfortable.

Below are photos of some of my favorite student artwork, as well as the gallery of all of the artwork displayed in the library.

The next projects are already underway. Second grade is about to finish up a watercolor night sky project and start a toucan drawing. Third, fourth, and fifth grade are working on paintings inspired by an Uruguayan artist named Joaquin Torres-Garcia. Sixth grade has started printmaking, which fifth grade would also be doing if they hadn't been demoted for bad behavior. Better luck next time fifth grade, I do not trust you with acrylic paint.

So what am I doing when I'm not being Frida Kahlo or a pirate of the Caribbean? Maybe a few photos will tell help answer that.