Ms. Woffard, or Woffard as she liked to be called, was my art teacher in 11th and 12th grade. Art class got me through high school, while all my other classes were driving me crazy Ms. Woffard’s was actually enjoyable. Maybe, it was so fun because of the enchanted tiki room in the small closet, complete with orange walls, bamboo, a leopard print sofa, and the light that when lit up read lounge. No doubt, Woffard’s funky fashion, red hair, and orange fingernails made class slightly more amusing. Surely the loud, crazy, slide shows to prince, lounge music, and the odyssey made art class more entertaining. But the absolute best thing about Woffard’s class was that she taught the way she felt her students would learn the best, even if it meant bending the rules.
Art class was not your typical essentialist classroom. Instead we were given the freedom to do pretty much whatever we wanted. Class started with Woffard putting out the materials and we were all just supposed to go for it. There were no rules other than to explore the medium and are own art making; in art class we learned how to draw, paint, sculpt, and collage simply by doing it. But Ms. Woffard’s class had a much greater function than just teaching how to make pretty pictures.
Woffard told us from day one that she did not care about beautiful pictures in perfect proportions. She used to tell us that, “straight lines are the devil.” She was more concerned with us investing our time and our emotions into our work. She wanted us to be able to support our reasons for putting one line there, or coloring that area a dark black. She hoped that by defending our work we could not only be prepared for the criticism, but that we would also learn something about ourselves. I learned a lot about myself during two years of art with Ms. Woffard, and I think that is a mark of a truly great teacher. When a teacher can influence and help you to understand how you feel about yourself and a variety of issues, that teacher has left a lifelong mark. Ms. Woffard taught me to appreciate Mark Rothko.
Two of my friends and I still meet up with the art teacher we all loved and appreciated so much. Whenever we are home for breaks we all get together for “triad tea” with the Woff, and discuss what we are doing, where were going, and of course the latest gossip. Ms. Woffard was a wonderful, creative, teacher and continues to encourage and influence me today.
--Lia West, American University