Jennifer Keller–Teaching Statement 2003-04
Lecturer in Science Communication

           Teaching science illustration at UCSC for the last 18 years has been an ongoing learning experience for me.  ‘Science’ is a vast topic, and so in my classroom hardly a day goes by that some previously unexplored subject doesn’t pop up. Recently during class someone posed the question, “Do the eyes on flatfish always migrate to the left side of the head, or does it just depend on the individual?” Hmm...

           Many questions arise that I am unable to answer, but maybe that’s okay. These questions provide a chance to demonstrate how sleuthing-out information is an important part of this kind of work, and certainly one of its joys.  They also help show the importance of working collaboratively. For example, while I may know a lot about watercolor techniques and the anatomy of birds, someone else in the room may have a much greater understanding of molecular biology. I see these differences as great gifts to our group experience, and encourage students to share their particular areas of expertise. I try to help them appreciate that the people sitting across the table are colleagues, to be valued and supported. I hope and expect that they will teach and learn from each other, and that they will experience the considerable benefit of teaching others, as well as the more obvious benefit they obtain from being taught.

           Our illustration classes are often a mix of experienced artists, novices, and everything in-between. Teaching to such varied groups can be challenging; I’ve found that offering multi-tiered assignments from which students may choose appropriately-ambitious projects is effective. I also operate from the conviction that both beginning and advanced students contribute valuable perspectives and play important roles in the overall class dynamics. The wonder and enthusiasm at learning to capture accurate forms on paper for the first time is contagious to those who might have come to take that skill for granted. In turn, more-advanced students have an opportunity to deconstruct and explain the illustration process to those less familiar with it – something they will need to be able to do as professional illustrators working with oftentimes less artistically-savvy clients.

           Each day before walking into the classroom, I try to remember to do two things: one is to recall just what it is that captivates me about what I am about to teach. Naturally this enlivens the discussion, but I find it also makes me a more empathetic instructor. By drawing upon my own excitement about learning, by constantly pushing my own boundaries in the fields of science and art, it becomes easier to understand what my students are experiencing. The second thing I try to do before teaching a class is to simply slow down, and remember to look people in the eye. Sometimes what one imagines is needed in the way of instruction and what turns out to work well for a particular student in particular situation can be different things. Responsiveness and sensitivity are essential.

           I have found that spending a lot of time on preparation is worthwhile for me. I am fascinated by the learning process and enjoy figuring out new ways to teach ideas. Recreating my classes every year helps me to keep my teaching vital and exciting, and attention to little things seems to make a difference. Last year, for example, my pleasure at discovering how the ratchet mechanism in a bird’s wing operates – the way it causes the wrist to fold closed whenever the elbow bends – made it worth spending the time it took to create a three-dimensional working model. The students got a kick out of it, and so did I.

           I believe the time that students spend with us is precious and life-shaping. My hope is that by respecting their intelligence and sincerity of purpose they will be inspired to make everything they can of that time. To turn our graduate students into illustrators ready for Scientific American and National Geographic in the course of one year can be a little daunting. I talk with art directors, and pay close attention to what’s being published. I keep my praise and criticism to the students completely honest, yet try to find strengths in every drawing. I endeavor to craft experiences in my courses that will both prepare them for the ‘real world’, and at the same time teach them ways to sustain themselves creatively. Ultimately, however, it’s the endless discussions about light, shadow, perspective, anatomy and conceptual clarity that finally turn all those rough sketches into informative, portfolio-quality illustrations. Each image becomes a world unto itself as we wrestle with these details. The completion of even one finished piece makes the whole process come more into focus, and the next time, the steps are more sure. When a student calls after having graduated from our program and says, “I can handle this! Thank you!”, or, “I’m doing what I really want,” I know we have hit the mark.

           It turns out that the eyes on a flatfish may migrate to either the left or the right side of the head as the fish matures, depending on the species. Next time I teach the “fish lab”, I’m sure I’ll remember this. But of course, next time, the question will be a different one. No doubt it will send my students and me on a new adventure of discovery. Another tiny piece of the wonderful puzzle of science and nature will fit into place, and another image will be created to help explain it. I see it as a great privilege to spend my days with others who love this process.