Educational Lineage
My educational lineage, like a growing bouquet, is shaped by teachers and experiences that taught me the importance of fostering creativity.
Exploration
I jumped into this project first thinking about what kind of metaphor to use to depict my educational lineage. I first thought of what made the use of a tree so great, how the stump is supposed to represent you, the branches and leaves to show the people that have made an impact on you. I used that to create my own version. My first idea was to have a flower, and the petals are the teachers that made me who I am. I thought that would be too simple. Then I got the idea of using stars and planets in a galaxy, I struggled with that as well as I thought it was too complicated. I decided to back track, thought deeper about the flower, and concluded that I could use a bouquet of flowers. With each lesson I have learned, it makes up something bigger and beautiful. I was really hooked on it, thinking it’d be perfect for this assignment, with more flowers added to the vase as I grew as a person.
Elementary - Sunflower
When I look back on my elementary years, the sunflower represents this stage of my educational lineage. Sunflowers naturally turn toward the light, and in the same way, I reached for creativity wherever I could find it. I remember being given a “do it yourself” Diary of a Wimpy Kid book, which sparked my early practice of observation. Redrawing characters and objects from that book unknowingly built my skills. Yet in art class, every student’s project looked the same; each step-by-step assignment emphasized conformity and control over imagination. The structure ensured that young students produced something recognizable, but the lack of creative freedom left little room for individuality. This reflects a more traditional, Herbartian approach to teaching, which prioritizes order and skill-building. Even so, the sunflower reminds me that I was still searching for light on my own terms, and this tension planted the seeds of my inherited belief: art should be about fostering curiosity and creativity.
Middle School - Cherry Blossoms
Middle school is best symbolized by cherry blossoms; marking the beginning of awakening. This was the stage when I became truly conscious of my creativity. I filled a massive notebook my dad gave me with drawings made with colored pencils, markers, and pens. My art teacher added to this period by assigning us a sketchbook where we designed our own covers, where each day we drew in each page with prompts. At the same time, I was teaching myself digital art on my Kindle Fire and, later, my first Wacom tablet. With no formal instruction, I learned through experimentation, trial and error, and play. This aligns closely with progressive educators like G. Stanley Hall, who believed that children’s self-discovery and varied use of media built natural intelligence more effectively than rote instruction.
High School - Sasanqua Camellia
The sasanqua camellia symbolizes refinement, mentorship, and flourishing skill, which captures my high school experience. I doodled constantly, sometimes even frustrating teachers outside of art class, but my art teacher recognized my passion and refused to limit me to preset lessons. She encouraged me to bring in my digital work, gave me space to draw independently, and even skipped me ahead to Painting II. Eventually, she let me work on my CCS portfolio alone, giving me independence with just enough guidance to help me grow. Her approach resonates with Progressive and Constructivist perspectives: she differentiated instruction, acknowledged my individual strengths, and encouraged my independence rather than restricting me with repetition. In many ways, she embodied what Buffington describes as the “big idea” approach; treating art as meaning-making instead of product-making. The camellia reminds me of the way she nurtured my growth, helping me flourish without holding me back.
Comic Cons - Baby’s Breath
Baby’s breath fills out a bouquet with its delicate clusters, just as my Comic Con experiences filled the spaces in my educational journey. These conventions were not formal classrooms, but they became some of my richest sources of learning. From middle school onward, I visited artists in the Artist Alley, asking them questions, learning from their stories, and building a large collection of art books that continue to inspire me. These encounters emphasized community, generosity, and informal mentorship. They mirror Dewey’s idea that learning extends beyond the classroom and is shaped by lived experiences and authentic social connections. Like baby’s breath, the wisdom and encouragement I gained at Comic Cons may have seemed small in the moment, but together they created a vital texture in the bouquet of my artistic education.
College - Roses
College is symbolized by roses, embodying both passion and challenge. My first semester at the College for Creative Studies was difficult, as I was pushed into foundation drawing courses focused on technical skill rather than creative expression. Drawing furniture and birdhouses felt rigid and disconnected from the kind of art that fueled me. Yet, much like roses with their thorns, those struggles shaped me. I thrived in later courses that allowed for creative freedom, especially figure drawing and character-focused illustrations. Thoughtful critiques helped me sharpen my work, while surface-level feedback showed me how much meaningful conversation matters in learning. This duality highlights the tension between traditional, technical approaches and progressive “big idea” frameworks that prioritize meaning-making. The rose, with both its thorns and blossoms, represents my resilience, passion, and ultimate growth as I learned to channel critique into better work and pursue art as more than just a product, but as an expression of self.
