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Student
Instructor’s Name
ENG 101
Date
A Lack of Confidence

I stepped through the doorway as a bead of sweat began to drip down my forehead. The

future of my art depended on this moment that I was in the midst of approaching. Everything was

resting on this one man’s decision. The teacher’s name was Mr. Jody. He was an older

gentleman with a very authoritative air about him. His eyes were hard and wise. His expression

was that of confusion. I felt the fear crawling up my spine as I worked up the nerve to speak.

In a timid, weak voice that could barely be heard, I said to him, “Hi, my name is Mxxxx

Zxxxxxx. I’m a new student here at Williamsburg. I’m going to be a freshman and I would really

like to be a part of your art class, please.”

“I would be more than happy to have you in my Art I class come Monday,” his

appearance softened.

“That would be great, but all of the Art I classes conflict with my Honors classes. Is there

any chance that you could squeeze me in another class?”

The kindness disappeared in an instant. “No. All of my other classes are for advanced

artists. You can just take Art I next year.”

“With all due respect sir, art is something that I am extremely passionate about. It is my

creative outlet. Is there any way that you could make an exception?”

No effect. He just simply repeated, “You can take Art I next year.”
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I was a very different person at that time than I am now. I was this scared girl that simply

did as she was told, no questions asked. My courage was absent, so I simply responded with,

“Okay, thank you for your time,” and walked out. I did not know it at the time, but this would

become one of the greatest regrets of my life.

As the beginning of the schoolyear came closer, I checked the mailbox almost four times

a day looking for my class schedule. I had this absurd hope that he had somehow changed his

mind, that the words “Art I” would be written in black and white on that piece of paper.

However, when the day came that I received my schedule in the mail, I, Mxxxx Zxxxxx, had

somehow been thrown into choir class. While I was temporarily amused, I was also very hurt and

disappointed that art was not going to be a part of my first year of high school (I managed to get

out of Choir and took Yearbook instead). While I understand now that this was not an excuse to

give up on something that I loved, the pain of it all led me to abandon drawing, painting, and

almost all art entirely.

I have often looked back on this moment in an effort to understand how it all could’ve

gone differently. I tried to appeal to his emotions, but it wasn’t for another three years that I

realized that words were not enough for a man like Byron Jody. Rather than speaking about art’s

meaning to me, I should have SHOWN him. I was lacking exactly what I needed to convince

him to take a chance on me, my art. Persuasion is all about adjusting to the audience. However,

seeing as how I had never met the art teacher before this moment, I was at an extreme

disadvantage. Recalling this moment, I wish that I had thought to bring evidence of my love for

art along with me that day. Just a simple portfolio could have made all of the difference.

I hated Mr. Jody for the three years following that day. However, I see now that I was

just as much to blame as he was. I was a stranger. I was some random girl walking into his office
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making demands without any sort of credibility on-hand. He was going to have to take time

away from his students who had already proven themselves, to work with a beginner. Also,

because I had no proof of what I could do, I was asking him to take a risk on talent that I was

simply claiming to have.

After my junior year, I found out that I had to have a Fine Art’s credit to graduate. So, as

a senior in high school, I finally took Art I. The first few weeks were excruciating. We spent day

after day drawing cubes and spheres. Mr. Jody had no memory of what had happened those three

years earlier and was pretty harsh on me (cubes were not my strong-suit). However, it was not

long after that when he saw that art was a piece of me. The greatest artist that I had ever had the

pleasure of meeting, loved my art and saw potential in me.

It did not take any time at all for my most-hated teacher to become my favorite. While I

did have to complete some of the Art I assignments, outside of that I was allowed to take on

whatever project struck me at the time. It was because of this freedom that I soon found my

passion for acrylic painting. Mr. Jody was a great artist, but an even better instructor. That

kindness that I saw in him reappeared, and has yet to leave again. He taught me how to soften

edges, how to be more free with my creativity and I greatly appreciated him for it. He was such

an optimist and always found the greatness behind every mistake. Byron Jody might have one of

the kindest souls on the face of this Earth, however, he scolded me for months about not

pursuing art earlier. He was furious at me for not taking his class sooner in my high school career

and never let me forget it either.

“You should have been in this class as a freshman, Mxxxxxx!”

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I bit my tongue for a very, very long time. I wanted to tell him that I had tried to take his

class as a freshman and that he had turned me down, but I managed to refrain. Knowing the man

that I know now to be the “real” Mr. Jody, I would never want to put that regret that I feel upon

him. Truth be told, the whole thing was my fault. He was never the one to blame. He did not

have confidence in a person that he had never met, but the real problem was that that person did

not have enough confidence in herself.

While it still gets to me that I missed out on three years of learning art from Mr. Jody,

that painful moment taught me a lesson that is essential for a happy life. In order to be satisfied,

you have to chase what you want. If you give it all you have and things are still not going your

way, that’s when you realize that it is not meant to be and can go on with your life. However, in

this circumstance, I folded way too easily. I loved art and I knew that I was good at it, but I let all

of my possibilities for art greatness fly out the window in a matter of seconds. People always say

to know your weaknesses, but it is just as important, if not more-so, to know your strengths.

While it may seem simple, it’s really much easier to say than to do. Do not become complacent,

do not let others control your life. If you are enthusiastic about something, go out and grab it.

Have confidence and fight for what you want, because if you don’t you will always be left

wondering, “what if?”