A Testament to the Power of a Teaching Artist

I began thinking about Mary more frequently earlier this month when I realized it was National Poetry Month. The arts organization I work for was deciding on an activity for our after school program for “Poem in Your Pocket Day.” The brainstorming of these activities reminded me of an assignment in my modern dance class in high school. The assignment was called “I am From” and the objective was to write a prose, or poem about the things that made us who we are. They could be sensory things, I believe I used a Ninja Turtle lunch box, sand and ocean waves at some point in my lyrics. We also used events, sayings, people or instances in time that defined us. Anything really, that made us who we were. We then used these lyrics to create choreography that took us on a journey of self reflection from our childhood to who we were as 18 year olds and budding adults, to even making predictions about who would become in the world. As we gathered that evening with our parents for a very personal showing, a graduation of our own really, we were all united by the power of “I am From.” 

Of all of the artistic experiences I have had in my journey as a professional dancer, the reflection and creation of this project is one that has stayed close to me through the years.
But these types of powerful experiences were a common occurrence during that period of the day, in that classroom, in that tiny town, with that magical woman, Mary Matthews. For myself and I know many others, the dance room was our salvation from the dramatic, teenage- perspective of our lives. What we learned during our modern dance class was so much more than just dance steps. We learned life lessons, we learned about ourselves and we learned how to positively express and communicate, we learned how to become something bigger at a life phase where one often feels lost and insignificant. We learned it all because of her. She was magic, our gypsy teacher. With the conviction and passion for life and art, she taught us how to be ourselves, she united us as dancers. There were no cliques, no judgments, and no high school in that class room. We were treated as artists, held to standards as dancers and people despite our technical abilities or aspirations to become dancers. We had no idea how lucky we were in a tiny town in rural Oregon to not just have a modern dance program, but a mentor and inspirational teacher who would give us so much more in our lives than simply dance itself, she would give us the gift of finding ourselves.

My only regret is that these revelations and appreciation of all that was received from our teacher and friend, have revealed themselves slowly over the years and that it was not all fully understood or appreciated in time for her to really know. But the power of her effect on all of us is demonstrated by the generations of students who still come together to remember her and celebrate her impact in the way the lead their lives and the people they have become. My hope and wish is that everyone will encounter a mentor who will impact their lives the way Mary has done for so many of us, and that every time an arts program is put on the chopping the block, someone will realize that in some small town, or inner city, or rural village, that program may be a source of salvation, or an important part in the development of the child, adolescent, or young adult who participates in it.