Forced Entry: Breaking Into Public Art

When I was in high school, I had an art teacher, Mrs. Stone, who had taught there for 49 years. The woman was in her 70s and wore colorful iconic 80s style matching sweatsuit sets daily, the type that swished a little bit every time she walked. She was a legend. Her name, age, and rigid nature held its own special irony. She was kind of known as a tyrant of sorts in the halls because of her strictness and with credibility because she had taught generations of students. While many students take the art class as a throw away or fluff course she took her classes seriously and would weed out students quickly who weren’t there to learn. In the same vein, she would nurture those students who showed genuine interest and ability. She once gave me and about three other students a professional art portfolio. It looked like a slim suitcase. She’d found it in a pile of things that someone was throwing away. She invested in her student’s futures.

It wasn’t until years after graduation at her funeral that I learned how much humility she actually exhibited. The vast array of accomplishments and impact she had on her community and Georgia in the southeast United States were quite powerful. For instance, her persistence with the boys club in charge was one of the main reasons that visual arts became a staple subject across Georgia public schools. Mrs. Stone was a very mighty force in her classroom, and beyond it.

As I’ve spent time recently on my “why’s” for Pamoja Keepsakes I find myself reflecting back on opportunities that I had to share my work publicly over the years, I realize that the journey began in high school with Mrs. Stone and my other art teacher, Mrs. Lambert. When I think back to where sharing my art began I refer to it as “forced entry” because Mrs. Stone was kind of known for taking artwork that a student had finished (or at times, maybe not) and entering it into an art exhibition, contest, or scholarship opportunity. Once in a while, a student would get a note or a reminder for Mrs. Stone that they needed to be at a place at a time for some reception where their art was going to be shown, unbeknownst to the student.

Those forced entries got me into spaces that I never would have imagined and deeply influenced my journey of exhibiting my art over the years. She removed choice and simultaneously, imposter syndrome. In high school alone, I had artwork on display at the Georgia Capitol building, a local fair, a County Art Exhibit, Columbus State College, and Hartsfield Jackson Airport. The airport trip was a huge experience because Mrs. Lambert‘s late husband was a pilot and managed to get Delta to put our class on a small jet, feed us lunch, and view our work on display inside of the airport. These small, but mighty, opportunities even on the subtlest level, boosted the confidence of myself and others who saw the value of just creating art and sharing it without expectations.

In fact, my first job out of high school was designing and applying faux stained glass applications to residential and commercial windows. The same design techniques used to decorate the sets of the Harry Potter movies. I got that job because Mrs. Lambert let me know about it at the end of my senior year and encouraged me to apply. You never know how much a nudge to apply, attend, submit, or pitch can land you places you didn’t think were possible.

Mrs. Stone would be proud to know that my artwork is currently hanging in Midtown Atlanta as a part of an installment for an outdoor gallery that features 150 local artists. To this day, I’m still applying to calls for art to share my non-client work. I share those opportunities on my platforms @pamojakeepsakes monthly because your work is worth sharing too! Sharing your art in public spaces is much more accessible than you might think.