When asked which college I have chosen to complete my undergraduate degree, I pridefully respond that, “I’m a student at SCAD.” The inquirer usually excitedly asks if I can draw and what kinds of things I draw. At this point, I must gently break the news that I am a writer, and no, I cannot draw a portrait of you. I try to explain the interesting program of study, but my audience is still puzzled. The confusion extends to my fellow SCAD students.
The typical uncertainty over my choice of major is the accusation that it is not an art form, and does not belong at an art school. Some people less educated about the art world seem to define art as only a picture or a sculpture that is pleasing to their eyes or that possesses a symbolic significance that they can relate to. They often seem to overlook the fact that not all artists spend their time hunched over a canvas with paint under their nails and splatters on their pants. Not all artists render images to create comic books and advertising designs.
I explain to people that the tools I possess are my thoughts, my computer and my books. Instead of manipulating images in a dark room, I can create a whole world using the English language. I meticulously fashion words together in any way I desire, to express myself and to relate to the outside world. I can turn a blank page into something meaningful and significant for those who can’t.
I realize I can study writing at nearly any higher learning institution in the country, but I have chosen to grow as a writer with my fellow artists at SCAD. As a former art school dropout, I had experienced the sense of community artists can have in an educational setting and had missed that feeling. At SCAD, my fellow writing students create a place where I’m not the strange, artsy kid, but a member of a collective of art-oriented minds. People that understand that my need to create often trumps my need for traditional college student shenanigans.
I chose to come to SCAD to improve my craft through both my writing and non-writing related classes — foundation studies in particular. As a writer, it might never matter that I can identify and explain what additive and subtractive mixing are or what makes a composition balanced. But the fact that I can, that my training allows me to do so, has expanded my perspective of things outside of the classroom and trained me to look at them from a different angle. It inspires me to think outside of the box in how I approach story lines and character development. It has taught me to not just do the expected. I may not be a visual artist, but I am an artist. I can put words to situations where others can’t. With words I can liberate, comfort, explain, teach and relate to my audience. My tools are not restricted to a paintbrush or computer software; they are within my mind.