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Tyler School of Art, the best experience of my life and the biggest challenge

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As I look back over my life, I realize that the best advice I was ever given was spoken by my mother. I had just lost my father to lung cancer. I asked my mother if she had any regrets in her life. And she said, “I never regretted anything I did, I’ve only regretted the things I didn’t do because I was afraid. I wished that I hadn’t let fear stop me.”

The Tyler School of Art in Elkins Park, Pa.

My mother passed away eight months after my father. She had a complete cardiac and respiratory arrest. From that moment on, I knew that I would no longer allow fear to hold me back from the things I wanted to accomplish in my life.

At the time, my children were seven and four. And the more I thought about it, the more I realized that what I had always wanted to do was to go to college. When I graduated from high school, my parents did not have the means to send me to college, and I didn’t have the high grades in high school to attain any scholarships. Later, I found out that I could qualify for some financial assistance because of need. And so, I made a decision at that time that what I always wanted to do was to become an artist or a writer. I applied to all the local art schools in the Philadelphia area. I had to prepare a portfolio of my most recent artwork. I spent several months doing that.

I was contacted by Temple University, Tyler School of Art, the Hussian School of Art, and Moore College of Art. I was interviewed and eventually accepted by the Hussian and Tyler School of Art. I made the decision to attend Temple Tyler School of Art because they offered me a full scholarship for the first year. It was located in Elkins Park in Pennsylvania, which was about a thirty-minute drive from where I was living in Pennsauken, NJ.

I started attending Tyler the following September. It turned out I was the only adult student in the Freshman Class. There were other adult students in the school, but they attended the graduate classes. I was thirty-six at the time. And although I looked young for my age, I certainly didn’t look eighteen years old, which was the age of all the other Freshman students.

Noah’s Last Voyage

Before I started school, I had to arrange childcare for my two daughters, who were six and three years old at the time. I talked to a friend of mine, and she said that if I took care of her daughter during the summer and on school holidays, then her husband would take care of my older daughter after school. I enrolled my youngest daughter in daycare at First Baptist Christian Day School. And so I started my new life as a college student at the grand old age of thirty-six. Saying that this was the greatest challenge I had taken is an understatement.

The Tyler campus was beautiful, and the buildings were older but full of character and ambiance. It was fourteen acres and had been donated to Temple University fifty years before I attended it. I have to admit that I was nervous that first week of school. That first morning I met an older man who was outside of the main building, and I asked him where the main office was located. He told me that he was the groundskeeper. He had an Irish accent which immediately drew me to him. Since my family originated in Ireland. We remained friends throughout the four years I attended Tyler. I walked over to the Main building and found the Main Office. I spoke to the office clerk, and she gave me a copy of the classes I would be taking this semester. And where the classes were located. I headed to my first class, which was a graphic design class.

Of course, I was the first student to arrive, as I have always been early for everything. I sat in the back of the classroom and waited for other students to arrive. Every student that came into the room asked me if I was the teacher. And I said, “No, I’m a student.” Apparently, I was going to be the only adult student, and I was. But, after a while, all the students accepted me as a fellow student, disregarding the age difference. I didn’t tell them I had two children for a long time. And so my art education began. To say it was challenging would be an understatement. It was more than challenging. It was like climbing a mountain every day. In my Freshman year, I had to take Drawing, Design, 3-D Design, Art History, and Intellectual Heritage.

The Race, one of my pencil drawings

The first year at Tyler was more than difficult, and it was time-consuming. I only got four to five hours of sleep during the school year. During the Spring Break and Summer, I took care of my kids, my house, and my friend’s daughter. I had no time for extracurricular activities. The teachers at Tyler had adult students in their graduate classes but were unaccustomed to one in their undergraduate classes. I’m sure teaching me was a challenge. I was the first student to raise my hand with a question if I didn’t understand whatever concept they were teaching. At first, this annoyed them, but at some point, they realized that if I didn’t fully comprehend some aspect of whatever concept they were teaching, then other students didn’t either.

I have to admit that I put every bit of energy I had into excelling in every area I was studying. But, I would have to admit there were many younger students who were naturally talented than I. I had to learn the hard way by repetition and mistakes.

One of the things I learned right off the bat was that if I didn’t put everything I had into my artwork and studying, I wasn’t going to make it. I had every intention of excelling. I have to admit that I was not the most talented student, but I was the one who worked the hardest, and through hard work and diligence, I finished the first year at the top of the class with a 4.0 average, which is comparable to an A plus.

The Trinity - one of my oil paintings

The Trinity

You may wonder how I assimilated into classes full of seventeen and eighteen-year-old students when I was thirty-six. Well, the absolute truth was I fit in just fine. I made many friends in the four years that I attended Tyler. Some of the students that I became friends with didn’t have driver’s licenses yet, and none of them owned a car. As a result, whenever one of our classes was visiting a museum or an artist studio, I would carry as many students as I could in my white Suburu wagon.

It was hard to believe how quickly the time went by while I was attending Tyler. I have to say that I enjoyed the experience tremendously. It was challenging, to say the least, but I came to love my fellow students and most of the teachers. And the sense of satisfaction that I was accomplishing something I always wanted to do my whole life but didn’t have the opportunity to do before this time.

In my junior year, I had to declare my major. I decided that I wanted to get a Bachelor of Arts and a teaching certificate. So, I had a double major. The final two years were exhausting. In addition, to the classes I took, I had to do student teaching. I ended up being placed at the Hancock Elementary School in North East Philadelphia and at the Conwell Middle School in Kensington, PA. I have to say that the students at these schools were challenging and lived in neighborhoods that were not altogether safe. But, overall, it was a rewarding experience for me. 

I graduated in 1992 with a B. F. A. Degree and teaching certificate with a 3.40 average Summa Cum Laude. I was forty-one years old. And I was offered a Membership to the Golden Key National Honor Society for four years.

I was recommended for Graduate School but decided I wasn’t interested at the time since I was somewhat burned out with attending school five days a week and taking care of my home and children.

As I look back, I can’t help but feel that going to college was one of the best decisions of my life. And I had excelled, and it was a great experience for me. And I knew that whatever challenges I faced in my future, I would be able to handle them, and I have. I don’t know what my future holds for me. But I know that I will do my best to excel at whatever I do in the time I have left on this planet. My only advice is to have faith in your ability to succeed in your life. And put all your energy into whatever you do, and don’t ever give up. No matter what anyone says to you. Believe in yourself. Because if you don’t have faith in your ability to succeed, who will?

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LIFE’S HIGHWAYS AND BYWAYS

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I guess you could say I’ve always been somewhat of a loner. Although throughout most of my life, I’ve always maintained a “best friend.” My best friend has not always been a fellow human being. Currently, my best friends are my dogs. And so far, they have proven to be the most loyal and loving, and accepting best friends. I suppose my peculiar ways have a tendency to “put people off.”

Watercolor I painted of my house where I grew up in and the Catholic Church that defined who I became as an adult in many ways.

Oh, you’re wondering what traits I have that put people off. Well, my sense of humor. I have to admit I’m a sarcastic person. Not mean sarcastic, but funny sarcastic. Although not everyone ‘gets” my sense of humor. I have something of a trigger finger when it comes to responding to people’s comments. It’s no sooner out of your mouth than I have a sarcastic remark to counter it. I think I’m a riot, but not everyone would agree.

And then there’s my almost total lack of interest in my outward appearance. Especially if I’m at home and working around the outside or out in the garden, I will definitely be wearing my oldest, most worn-out clothes I own. So, you happen to come over to my house without forwarning me. Well, you can expect me to look pretty much like I haven’t showered or washed my clothes recently. If you let me know you are coming in advance, you can be sure that I will take a quick shower and change my clothes. And I will have something for you to eat when you arrive. Without warning and I most likely will have an empty fridge, and you’ll be lucky to get more than a glass of water or tea. What can I say?

Downtown Maple Shade in the 1950s

Oh, there I go off the track again. I was explaining how I am somewhat of a loner and usually only have one close friend at any given time. And in recent years, most of my closest friends have been dogs, cats, and birds. And they may not even be my dogs, cats, or birds. They could very well be my neighbor’s pets. In fact, my best and closest friend when I was a young child was a stray cat named Strottles. He was an ancient orange cat. He was covered with scars from his many battles with neighbors’ male cats. He came to our side door every day and would meow until I came outside and gave him his share of hugs, scratches, and petting.

And in addition, I befriended all the neighbor’s pets, including cats and dogs. I went out of my way to talk to all the older people in the neighborhood, who often lived alone. And they were more than happy to make my acquaintance and befriend me. I found that they were good listeners and were never in a hurry. And they always seemed entranced by the stories I would tell them about the adventures I experienced in our neighborhood and the rest of the town that I lived in as well. My parents gave me full rein. As long as I was home for lunch or dinner on time, all was copesetic. In fact, they rarely asked where I had been or what I had been up to in fact. Even at the age of six, I was allowed to go out on my own as long as I wasn’t late for meals or bedtime. I kid you not.

I met some interesting people on my excursions. And once I was old enough to ride a bike, there was no stopping me. I traveled to all the surrounding towns on that bike. There was no stopping me. And like I said, my parents never asked where I had been or what I had been up to. Go figure.

My family in the 1950s

My family in the 1950’s

One of my favorite haunts was the local library, which was only two rooms. I used to go there at least once or twice a week, even before I was old enough to get a library book. I would pick out a bunch of books and spend several hours perusing them from the front cover to the last page. Sometimes, the librarians would greet me with ‘Oh boy, do we have a book for you.” And then I would be in book heaven for the next couple of hours. I made friends with all the local merchants. Needless to say, the local bakery and its employees became best friends of mine. I was their official taste tester. I can’t express just how much I loved all things sweet, from cakes to pies, to cookies.

And then there was the shoemaker. His shop was right around the corner from the Ben Franklin 5&10. I’ll tell you about that later. Anyway, Tony the shoemaker was one of my favorite people to visit because he was always happy to see me, and sometimes I brought him a treat from the bakery. He came from Italy, and I loved hearing him talk with his Italian accent. He liked to hear all my stories about the people I talked to around town. He knew most of them as he was the only shoemaker in town.

Then, I would stop at the Rexall Drug Store and then the 5&10 cent store where you could actually purchase things for a nickel or a dime. I liked to collect foreign stamps when I was a kid. And you could buy a whole bunch of used stamps for fifty cents or a dollar if you had that much money. There were so many treasures to be found in that 5&10 store. I could spend hours in there just walking up and down the aisles. Sometimes, I would find some coins on the sidewalk when I was walking around downtown, and then before you could say whoop de doo., I would run down the street to the 5&10 and spend that money like it was burning a hole in my pocket.

Saint Mary of the Angel’s Academy, where I attended high school.

Oh, but the best thing of all was the Roxy Theater, where every Saturday, you could watch a movie for twenty-five cents. I used to go with all my friends, sometimes school friends, and sometimes neighborhood kids. I would bring my lunch with me in a brown paper bag. My best neighborhood friend lived three houses away from me. We did everything together. At least everything during the summer, but during the school year, she used to sleep in late on Saturday morning, and then she would have to clean her room. So, I didn’t usually see her until we went to the children’s mass on Sunday. I was always talking and laughing during Mass and causing some kind of ruckus, and getting in trouble with the nuns.

After Mass, I would run home and eat a big Sunday breakfast with my family, and then I would be off on my bike. On Sunday,I spent most of my time alone because my friend’s family spent the day together. I didn’t have to be home except for breakfast and then at dinner time. I spent Sunday riding my bike around or taking long walks. Where I would stop and visit all the neighbor’s dogs and cats. And sometimes, I would go and visit all the older people in my neighborhood who lived alone. They always seemed happy to see me, and sometimes they offered me cake. And you know, I never said no to a piece of cake. And they all loved hearing my stories about the people in town, sometimes, I embellished the stories somewhat, but that just made them more interesting. I guess that’s when I began my journey of being a storyteller.

One time during Summer vacation, all the neighborhood kids were all outside playing Hide and Seek, and I was with my best friend. And I decided to tell her a story. I told her that I was actually an alien from outer space and came from another planet. And I was going to take her back with me to my planet. Apparently, I told the story so well that she believed me. Even though she knew me all her life, anyway, she said she didn’t want to go live on another planet, and she started crying buckets of tears. I couldn’t calm her down enough to tell her I was just telling a story. And it wasn’t true.

So, I had to take her home so her mother could calm her down. I tried to explain to her mother that I was just telling her one of my stories, but she was mad all the same. I have to admit I never told my mother and father about making my best friend cry. Because they had told me many times that one of these days, I was going to get into trouble for telling my tall tales.

I became friends with the old lady that lived across the street from my house. She was a widow and lived all alone. My best friend and I used to go over to Mrs. McFarland’s house and play with our dolls on her big swing. Once, Mrs. McFarland brought her childhood doll outside to show us. It was made of China and had real hair on its head. I loved Mrs. McFarland because whenever I came over to her yard, she would come outside and talk to me and tell me stories about her life. Mrs. McFarland only had one and a half arms. She told me that she was born like that, and her one arm only went down as far as her elbow.

But that didn’t stop Mrs. McFarland. She took care of herself and her house and did all the gardening in her yard. Her favorite flowers were roses and tulips. She used to tell me all the names of the flowers and how to take care of them. She inspired me to become a gardener when I grew up. And here I am, the age she was when I first became friends with her. And now I am a gardener and like nothing better than spending the day outside, tending my flower. Mrs. McFarland had a gigantic Weeping Willow in her yard, and she used to let me climb it. And now I planted a Weeping Willow in my yard here in North Carolina. When I was about sixteen years old, she passed away, and every time I looked across the street at her house, I missed her.

Over the course of my life, I have always found my own company to be satisfying. And I have always had many hobbies and interests. I love to read, draw and paint, and make things. I made all my own clothes for years and my children when they were young. When I was thirty-six, I made the decision to go to college and learn how to draw and paint. I graduated from college when I was forty with a degree in Art Education and a Bachelor of Arts Degree. I taught art for years, and often my students would sit out in my garden and draw or paint pictures of my plants and flowers. Along the way, I started writing short stories, and when I retired here to North Carolina, I decided to start a writer’s blog on the internet that was six years ago. And here I am, still going strong. You never know what life will have in store for you and where it will take you. I have lived in New Jersey, Florida, California, and the past eight years in North Carolina. I met some interesting people when I was working for the Elizabeth Warren Campaign. And at the Animal Sanctuary, I have been volunteering for the last eight years, three mornings a week.

As long as my heart and mind are still working, I will keep active and motivated to learn, meet new people, and grow as a human being. Life is short and goes by quickly, so whatever you do, make the most of it. Be kind to all you meet along life’s highways and byways. You never know what life has planned for you. Keep an open heart and an open mind, and a smile on your face.

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