John Dewey, Art as Experience
What does it take to be a great teacher? That was the first question I asked myself when I was offered a teaching fellow position for UNT's art and design foundation courses. This was my first time as the instructor of record for a class of my own, and I chose to start with empathy, curiosity, connection, and humility. I believe the best teachers never let go of the desire to keep learning alongside those they teach. They are attuned to the people in front of them and model the qualities they want their students to carry forward. That orientation is where my teaching begins.
My path to academia was not linear. It ran through visual arts, journalism, interaction design, and learning experience design — each field shaping my identity, worldview, and ways of working, and each one reinforcing the same professional habit: start with why before reaching for how or what. Over time, my experiences crystallized into a set of guiding principles — Live, Learn, and Reflect. Those principles matter in my approach to teaching. On reflection, I remember a quote, “Be the person you needed most growing up”, and teaching is the chance to be that person for others, not just through what I know, but through how I show up.
Jay Parini wrote that teachers, like writers, need to invent and cultivate an authentic voice, and that takes time, experimentation, and honest reflection. Finding my voice as a teacher means knowing what I actually believe about learning, not just regurgitating what I was taught. A well-conceived education, as described by Sir Ken Robinson, is “a conversation, a dynamic encounter, guided by expert and knowledgeable mentors”, where students are participants, not recipients. That framing resonates deeply with me. To me, the classroom is not a delivery system, but a space where meaning gets made through the friction and synthesis of different minds working together. The teacher’s role is not to eliminate that friction but to make it productive. After all, learning happens when the mind is challenged. I see human knowledge is a fabric where each of us holds part of the pattern. Learning happens when we engage genuinely with people who hold different pieces, and education is the deliberate design facilitating those encounters.
As AI integration accelerates within education, what becomes more essential is not the information it cannot provide but the capacities it cannot replace. Knowing when a student needs a clear framework and when they need to find their own way through the chaos. Recognizing that ‘classes’ are also a place to experiment, and learning is not passive but contextual, social, and active. Understanding that ‘learning’ is also a process, not just the product at the end. The ability to sit with a struggling student and guide them to find what they need before they can name it. The judgment to know when a critique will open someone up and when it will shut them down. The willingness to be changed by what you encounter in a classroom. These capacities do not emerge from content delivery, but rather from a disciplined, iterative, and instinctive practice. These are not supplements to a rigorous education — they are embedded in its purpose.
A teaching philosophy, like a design practice, is constantly evolving. What stays constant is the orientation: start with why, stay curious, build the conditions where learning happens naturally, and trust students to carve their learnings. Understanding the world around us begins with understanding the world within us. That is where the work starts. It is also, in the best classrooms, where it never fully ends.
Sir Ken Robinson, Do schools kill creativity?