What Teaching is Teaching Me
Today, I’ve had a lot on my mind. I’m in a place where I’m holding so many thoughts at once—trying to figure things out, trying to let things go, trying to stay grounded. Lately I’ve been feeling ambitious and excited in a new way, ready to implement ideas, try things out, and show up for my students the best way I can. I’m becoming much more aware of how much responsibility I carry as a teacher, and how much energy and effort this work truly requires. It takes a lot out of me, but at the same time it gives me space to create, problem-solve, take risks, and refine exactly what I want to teach—especially at the introductory level of art.
Now in my third year, I’m finally starting to understand the art of teaching. I’m figuring out my schedule, my systems, and my best practices—for both myself and my students. I’m learning how to manage time so we start class strong and end with enough time to clean up without stress. There are so many small moving parts in teaching that I had no idea about before. Working with high schoolers and elementary students these past two years has given me confidence. I feel like I know what I’m doing now, and that feels really special.
I’ve been thinking a lot about next year—even though we’re still in the fall. My mind jumps ahead, but that forward-thinking helps me build systems right now: vocabulary that’s meaningful, intentional lessons, artists and projects that tie together. Teaching is this ongoing cycle of trial and learning. I think about the stand-up comedians I grew up watching—Richard Pryor, Eddie Murphy, Bernie Mac, Katt Williams, Dave Chappelle—icons who talk about how much they practiced. How many nights they went up to do 15 minutes, or 2 hours, or 5 hours. Their level of consistency is what made them great.
In that way, teaching feels the same. I’m constantly practicing and growing. Even without my credential in hand yet, I feel like a professional. It’s like I’m in the G League, but already getting real NBA minutes. I’m not a rookie anymore. Three years in, I’ve gotten my feet under me. Teaching nonstop—not as a student teacher but as an intern teacher—has been the best path for me. I’ve taught in so many settings: art programs, high schools, K–12, adults, people with disabilities and without. Everything I’ve done has revolved around art or education, and that’s been a blessing. It’s prepared me for this career better than I realized.
Watching other student teachers or interns, I don’t compare myself. I just know I’ve been doing this for a long time. Public speaking, standing in front of groups, guiding people—that’s been my life for over a decade. There’s a comfort there. A confidence. A “yeah, I got this” feeling that’s rooted in years of work.
When I first started my credential program at SF State, I was resistant. I didn’t know how it would help me and honestly thought it might be a waste of time. But last spring something shifted. I realized I needed to give myself grace. These classes weren’t pointless—they were spaces to collaborate with other teachers, to share frustrations, to exchange ideas. Looking at it with a new mindset helped me open up, connect with my professors and peers, and learn quickly. Teaching is already hard, so giving myself grace made a huge difference.
Once you’re in the classroom day after day, minute after minute, you really understand what people mean when they talk about the demands of teaching. The schedule leaves almost no room to breathe: 180 school days, grading periods every six weeks, 27–35 days per cycle to implement everything. It’s a lot. And that’s why systems matter. Structure doesn’t just support me—it supports the kids. Any crack in the system, they’ll find it. They’re kids—high schoolers too. They need consistency, clarity, and discipline. When they walk into a structured space, they rise to it.
These past few months, I’ve been thinking deeply about my process and systems and how I can be the best art teacher I can be. My mentor recently told me, “I don’t want you to just be your best. I want you to be the best art teacher—ever.” Hearing that lit something in me. It made me stand taller. It reminded me that someone believes in me, and that I should believe in myself too. It’s not about competition. It’s about showing up prepared, creating dope projects, introducing students to incredible artists, and giving them experiences they wouldn’t get anywhere else.
Like the comedians and athletes I admire, the goal is mastery. To practice until things become smooth, natural, and second-nature. If I imagine myself 30 years from now—still teaching in some form—I know the only thing that will truly change is the students. I’ll still be practicing my craft. Still teaching. Still rooted in both art and education. Balancing two careers—artist and teacher—isn’t easy, but they feed each other. To be a great art teacher, I have to be a great artist too.
I truly believe I’m working to become the Michael Jordan of art teachers. That excites me. It motivates me. It fills me with pride and gratitude because of the opportunities I’ve been given and the ones I’ve created for myself. And decades from now, I know I’ll look back with pride at what I built—at the lives I touched, the students I inspired, the creativity I nurtured.
I’m honored to do this work. I’m humbled by my students. I’m filled with gratitude for my career. Teaching requires a high level of responsibility, but it also reflects the man I am and the man I’m becoming. I’m excited to keep building, growing my curriculum, and expanding my artistry.
So yeah—today’s thoughts come down to this: Show up for yourself. Keep striving. Push beyond your limits. Broaden your horizons. See more, feel more, grow more. Be the best at your best. And keep going.
