A couple of weeks ago, I combined twenty-five of my students with another teacher's twenty-five and we traveled to the Metropolitan Museum of Art, my favorite place on earth, where the world and time have always seemed to welcome me. As a young teacher, twenty years ago, I secured myself a membership. For a few years, I visited the museum, on average, five times a month for gallery talks on everything from Islamic art to the American Wing.
When I took my students there in late May of this year, it had been about ten years since I had last visited. One marriage and three children had intervened. Happily, I still remembered enough of my way about so that we didn't get lost. But, even if we had, I found a guard in almost every room who might have directed us through the twists and turns of the grandeur-filled galleries.
I look forward to bringing my own children to the museum someday soon. For the time being, however, it was beautiful to share the museum with my big students and have an expert talk to us about Renaissance Art History (the title of one of my courses in college). Like President Obama said in his apology for "off the cuff" remarks about the value of art history, I feel that "it has helped me take in a great deal of joy in my life that I might otherwise have missed."
My colleague and I had different philosophies on inviting students. She opted for bringing her honors' class. One of the reasons I have always been reluctant to do field trips has been the fear of showing favoritism (which I honestly don't feel) in choosing one class over another. I opted for asking the students in all five of my classes if they would like to come and then picking winners from those interested by lottery in each class. I ended up with students from all five classes.
There were some surprises in my experiment. (Even as an experienced teacher, I am still occasionally surprised twenty years into the endeavor). Fewer students in the honors class had wanted to go. I have a couple of possible theories here. Perhaps, more of these students have visited the museum before. As it turned out, very few of my twenty-five had ever viewed the museum. My second theory is that, perhaps, the honors students were more concerned about missing work in their other classes. And, then, it may have been something entirely different. In analyzing statistics, I would never presume to fully understand the complex interplay of all the multiple factors of causation.
When we got to the museum, I joked with our guide that the kids were beasts. In reality, there was one student I had to keep more of an eye upon than the other students, but he's a good-natured jokster, not a menace to society. I expected her to laugh, but she didn't. I realized that she thought I was dead serious. So, I told her that I was merely joking. She seemed greatly relieved. I was glad all my students were at the museum because they had wanted to be there. They listened and they answered questions. Occasionally, they asked their own.
I took a lot of photographs. A student showed me the many pictures of artwork on his "device." I mainly took pictures of my students enjoying the artwork. Three girls lined up in front of the ancient Egyptian work below and mimicked the pose. I cut them out of the picture, for sake of their privacy, but the original copy--which I shared with the girls, one of part Latin-American descent, another of Russian descent, and the third African-American--I will always cherish. I love New York City! I love Ancient Egypt! Where else can the two meet and so many cultures transcend time together?
We had a good time with our guide. She had the superior knowledge or art. Although my students seemed to understand most of everything she said, at a couple of points I was able to make it more accessible to them. When we left the museum, our guide thanked us. She let us know that we had been a good, attentive group. Then, for an hour, I ran my students through all the highlights that had struck me at their age and the things in which they seemed interested. We saw the Temple of Dendur, the armor room, the Costume Institute, musical instruments, Japanese art and a lot in between.
The greatest challenge to the trip came at the close. We had to squeeze, all fifty of us, onto the #6 Train. I bet you're happy you weren't waiting on the platform with us! Actually, some students were awed by the fact they were packed so closely they didn't even need to hold on to a strap or a bar. I have to say that day was one of my best days. And I think if all the artists, some named and some anonymous, could have guessed that people from all walks of life would come to view their work, they might agree with the Ancient Egyptians that there can be a magical quality to art that provides for the eternities. And, yes, teaching is one such art.
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