Above the art display case (which is now mostly empty due to summer break) in the hall at Bountiful high school, is a quote from the famous impressionist painter Edgar Degas, “Art is not what you see, but what you make others see.”
My dad has spent 36 years of his life as the photography and graphic arts teacher at Bountiful High School, teaching hundreds of students to see art in the world around them and to capture it. Now, due to financial constraints, his photography program is being cut from the curriculum and he has been forced to retire a few years earlier than planned.
Though it is disappointing that he will not be able to retire on his own steam after dedicating so much of his life to teaching, what’s even more disconcerting is that this amazing program, that dad has built from scratch, will not be there to enhance and improve the lives of students in the future. This also means that my dad won’t be there either, and that is the saddest thing of all, because he has been a positive influence in the lives of hundreds of students over the years.
Since yesterday was the last official day of teaching for dad, I wanted to go visit his classroom one last time. I have many fond memories of being in his classroom over the years. I went to a different high school so never had the chance to take my dad’s class like some of my brothers did, but I love his classroom nevertheless. You can see my dad in that room, better than anywhere else. I guess when you spend a major portion of 36 years in one space, you’re bound to leave your mark there.
For the last several weeks we’ve been going through boxes of photographs that dad has been storing in his classroom for years. We’ve unearthed a few treasures; like this one of dad (far right) with some of his photography students back in the 70’s. He’s so young here he looks like one of his students. In fact, in his early years of teaching he was often mistaken for a student.
Is this picture a classic or what?
It’s been interesting to see how dad’s teaching methods have changed over the years due to advances in technology. I remember well when there were no computers in his classroom at all. His room smelled of photo developing chemicals, rolls of black and white film and bottles of photo tint solution were scattered everywhere, ribbons of processed negatives hung from clothes pins from the ceiling, and the dark room was king.
Back then…
and now…..
It’s all about digital these days. Computers are the name of the game, but there are still remnants of the old days everywhere, and these reminders of the past are what I love most. When we were kids dad would give us a camera, roll of 35 mm black and white film, and let us go to town. He would teach us the principles of good composition, let us loose to shoot a roll, and then take us to the dark room to help us develop our masterpieces. I loved the process of seeing our photographs magically appear on squares of white photo paper as we stood there, in the dim orange light, using our wooden tongs to swish our photos in shallow trays of strongly smelling chemicals. We felt like dad’s grown- up students in that dark room. We felt like artists. Dad was a great teacher too.
That old dark room… sinks, trays, tongs, and all, are still there, along with that lingering smell of developer that I love so much. But now, the dark room is being used as a janitorial supply closet. It’s sad really.
Dad does (or did) teach a photography history section, so there is still rolls of film in his desk drawer, along with the same boxes of pens and markers I used to dig through as a kid. He still has the Whitman’s Sampler chocolate box there too. It’s been there as long as I can remember.
In fact, one of the things that still remains in the classroom is Dad’s original desk, and I loved digging through it yesterday, hearing the familiar sound of the drawers sliding on their tracks, and smelling the faint smell of permanent marker and pencil lead.
Back then….
And now…with a big computer taking up most of the desk space.
One of my favorite things to do is to go to Dad’s classroom, wander around, and view all the artwork of his students that has been carefully pinned with dozens of thumbtacks to the bulletin boards on the walls. Luckily the student’s work was still there yesterday, featuring some old favorites and some new delights. Dad’s had lots of talent pass thorough over the years. Some students really found their niche in life, their hobby, their passion, because they were in my dad’s class.
Even though I prefer the old school photography, dad’s students have done some pretty amazing things with their digital cameras and Photoshop as well. It’s a whole new world on those computers.
Mary Kate and Emily spent our visit doing one of the things I loved to do in dad’s classroom when I was a kid…
…writing on the chalk board. Love that!
When I was a kid I knew I wanted to grow up doing something that allowed me to write on the chalkboard everyday. I wanted to do something like my dad, and like my mom, something that made a difference in the world. I wanted to become a teacher. So I did.
And dad, thank you. Thank you for all your hard work over the years. Thanks for working an honorable career and supporting our family always. Thanks for doing something that made a difference, and in turn, something that made a difference in my life.
When I was in high school I worked at a job where many Bountiful high students were employed as well. When they heard what my last name was they would always ask me if I was related to Mr. Stauffer, the photography teacher at Bountiful High. I was always proud to say yes! These student’s responses were all the same, especially if they had taken a photography class or had been on the golf team where dad was coach. “Your dad is such a cool teacher,” is what they’d say. And they were right. Dad WAS a cool teacher. The coolest ever.
