In my senior year I made many decisions, some I instantly regretted, others I’ve come around to. But I also made choice that I could never regret or wished I could turn back on. In my senior year I signed up for AP Art Studio.
I first learned about the class from an art teacher, I had taken a few classes to fill my schedule and art had always been a hobby I enjoyed. I talked about the class with a friend I had known since freshman year, she had taken the class in her junior year and insisted that I sign up for it. I admit, I had a bit of a crush on her so she didn’t have to twist my arm to make me want to join the class.
On the first day I was simultaneously in love and terrified. I had never been in a class so small, there was six other students, …show more content…
Our teacher was a relatively famous local watercolor artist, was in the middle of an attempt at teaching us professional watercolor techniques. Our class was an hour and a half long and we had the last lunch period from 12:30 to 1. A class room of eight hungry and severely bored seventeen-year-olds, deciding to “make things interesting”. So one of peer’s outright asked our teacher if he had ever smoked pot. The room, predictably, came to a standstill. I had seen this guy been told to leave the room for this same question a few …show more content…
Then went back to his lesson on watercolor painting.
A quick description of classmates would be: my ex-best friend’s-ex boyfriend, a girl who fantasied about being Ariel from The Little Mermaid, a cowgirl, the token black girl, an ex-emo girl, a self-described “classy” hippy, and the girl who dragged me into this mess. But that description makes sound like we weren’t all friends by the end of the class. We defiantly were. Art Studio was a class I always looked forward to, and that had been a foreign concept to me. I had subjects and teachers I could appreciate, but there was always something, terrible classmates or a person who I couldn’t stand. But I never felt that in room 122. We all had a weird kinship with each other. We all watched adult cartoons and would talk about last night’s episode, discussing the underlying means and what we thought the next episode would be. This conversation was never limited to the students though. Our teacher was actually a fan of South Park and Rick and Morty. We had conversions ranging from arguing about video games to political discussions, yet we never snapped at each other or were cruel, just sitting around arguing and
I first learned about the class from an art teacher, I had taken a few classes to fill my schedule and art had always been a hobby I enjoyed. I talked about the class with a friend I had known since freshman year, she had taken the class in her junior year and insisted that I sign up for it. I admit, I had a bit of a crush on her so she didn’t have to twist my arm to make me want to join the class.
On the first day I was simultaneously in love and terrified. I had never been in a class so small, there was six other students, …show more content…
Our teacher was a relatively famous local watercolor artist, was in the middle of an attempt at teaching us professional watercolor techniques. Our class was an hour and a half long and we had the last lunch period from 12:30 to 1. A class room of eight hungry and severely bored seventeen-year-olds, deciding to “make things interesting”. So one of peer’s outright asked our teacher if he had ever smoked pot. The room, predictably, came to a standstill. I had seen this guy been told to leave the room for this same question a few …show more content…
Then went back to his lesson on watercolor painting.
A quick description of classmates would be: my ex-best friend’s-ex boyfriend, a girl who fantasied about being Ariel from The Little Mermaid, a cowgirl, the token black girl, an ex-emo girl, a self-described “classy” hippy, and the girl who dragged me into this mess. But that description makes sound like we weren’t all friends by the end of the class. We defiantly were. Art Studio was a class I always looked forward to, and that had been a foreign concept to me. I had subjects and teachers I could appreciate, but there was always something, terrible classmates or a person who I couldn’t stand. But I never felt that in room 122. We all had a weird kinship with each other. We all watched adult cartoons and would talk about last night’s episode, discussing the underlying means and what we thought the next episode would be. This conversation was never limited to the students though. Our teacher was actually a fan of South Park and Rick and Morty. We had conversions ranging from arguing about video games to political discussions, yet we never snapped at each other or were cruel, just sitting around arguing and