“I Ate Cornflakes Out of My Bowl”

In November, we switched to making objects out of clay. I demonstrated hand-building techniques – pinch, coil, and slab construction. Students had ten days to make objects – no guns, but bowls, cups, banks, ornaments, plaques, and such. I helped with handles, which are difficult – but just about every student wanted to make holiday gifts for their families. And, between making objects, students made additional tiles.

 Junior Thug again took over loading and unloading the kiln, in addition to completing at least one clay item a day. Items dried, he loaded, we bisque fired, he unloaded, we glazed, he loaded, we glaze fired, he unloaded. Students wrapped their objects in paper and plastic bags, and took them home.

A few days after we finished all the clay work, Thug #2 came to class. Sat down, ready to work, chip still on his shoulder, face set in his permanent scowl. He looked at me and announced, “Ms. Schwartz, this morning I ate cornflakes out of my bowl.” I smiled, congratulated him on making such a nice bowl. Other students piped up that they had drunk juice or milk or tea out of their cups. Someone else had eaten breakfast using their bowl.

It was one of those successful moments, when the students show that they’ve achieved something, when the teacher feels she has achieved something – even though it was as simple as cornflakes in a blue bowl.