When I Grow Up
Photo by Cottonbro Studio
What’s on my mind?
I’ve always had an artistic bent. Creativity has shaped my life, influenced by a bit of ADHD and a mother with a degree in design from UC Berkeley.
Mom never pushed me into art. Instead, it became a natural part of my life. Her background in design made our homes beautiful and comfortable, no matter where we lived in the world. She loved fine art, had favorite artists, and was well-versed in art history.
Mom encouraged my art by providing endless drawing supplies. Since I often wasted paper if my first mark wasn’t perfect, she switched to reams of cheap newsprint to keep up with my ADHD-fueled creativity.
The only art lesson I remember from Mom was when she taught me how to draw a tree. She pointed out the window and said, “See that tree? Draw it like it grows, from the ground up to the sky, from the branches out to the leaves.” She always commented that my trees looked like lollipops.
In grade school, my ADHD made it hard to get good grades, and report cards were critical. Teachers labeled me uninterested and easily distracted. Everything changed when I met redheaded Ethel on the playground. She was a Special Ed student, an artist, and an environmentalist. Drawing lively panoramas of grazing deer and smoke-belching factories in the dirt with a stick, she changed my life. I spent recesses drawing with her and campaigning to kids playing tetherball to save the earth. My teacher noticed my focus and wrote in my report card that art might be key for me. She was right.
My bent for art continued to grow. When I was twelve, my family was living in Tarbela, Pakistan. There, I started creating and selling poster board paintings by copying images, which amazed the unartistic. Later, as a teenager attending boarding school in Murree, I learned more about observational sketching. Mr. Mason taught me that drawing from life was far better than my parlor tricks.
That sense of direction wavered when my parents moved to Thailand during my late teens, and I started boarding school in Malaysia. There were no art classes, especially for someone like me, who dreamed of being a cartoonist or animator. One day, a guest speaker from the cartoon studio Hanna-Barbera visited our school for an event. Proudly, I showed him my cartoon characters, expecting an offer of a glorious future in animation after high school. He browsed quickly through my examples and politely said, “Keep at it. If you’re ever in LA, stop by for a tour.” Even then, I knew what he meant, and my dream ended there.
After struggling academically in high school in Malaysia, I returned to California and enrolled at Bakersfield Junior College, where I started from scratch but majored in fine arts. Inspired by my art professors, I wanted to become an art teacher and inspire others. I enjoyed and excelled in all my art classes, especially in glass blowing. My professor encouraged me to attend art school and pursue a career as a glassblower. My parents, who had moved to Venezuela, shared their concerns in a letter, and the subject was dropped.
I transferred to the California College of the Arts in Oakland, with the intention of becoming an art teacher. But that changed in a single afternoon. After randomly visiting a senior graphic design exhibition on campus, I immediately switched majors. I‘d never seen anything like it, type, grids, design, color, and images on paper come together so powerfully. In that moment, I knew what I wanted to be: a Graphic Designer. And I thrived.
Later, when Mom visited me at college, I showed her my portfolio. I never felt like she was impressed. Perhaps she viewed graphic design as merely a commercial art form, not as respected as fine art or her own field of expertise. Dad, on the other hand, was just happy I could support myself after college.
Mom came to my art school graduation. I think she was proud that I finished college with an AA in Fine Arts and a Bachelor’s degree in Graphic Design. She hugged me and gave me a check, saying, “I’m proud of you. Get yourself a nice drafting table and chair when you get settled. You earned it.” The next day, she flew back to the Dominican Republic, where my parents were living. It felt like the end of one chapter and the start of another.
After college, I returned to Bakersfield and started my first job at an advertising agency. It’s said that a real education begins after college, and I found that to be true. When I felt discouraged, I’d sit at my drafting table in my bedroom, my college degree on my wall, and feel a sense of pride. I was truly independent and building a life of my own, driven by creativity, a bit of ADHD, a lot of resilience, and the moxie to follow my passions.
