How I Found Myself Teaching Italian Kids to Draw

Over the past year, I’ve been volunteering at the primary school in our tiny Italian hilltop town, teaching classes in freehand drawing. Although our village is small, there are enough children in the area to fill a combined primary and middle school. It’s not exactly a one-room schoolhouse, but it’s close.

Before giving the classes, I feared I would need to contend with a passel of brats careening across the room and ignoring my every word. Instead, I found the opposite. The students were eager, attentive, and well-mannered. They followed my directions closely. They asked questions. They showed me their work at each step, to see if I approved. In all, it was a rather heady experience.

I also felt some trepidation about my ability to explain drawing techniques and methods in Italian. While my mastery of the language is probably not much different than a nine-year-old’s, I was nervous about miscommunicating.

But let me back up a bit.

Eight years ago, when my wife and I were newcomers to Italy, I had to apply for a residency permit which allows one to live in the country. Non-residents (aka tourists) are limited to 90 continuous days in the country. A residency permit allows the holder to stay indefinitely, subject to renewal every couple of years. Obtaining the permit required signing a document known as an Integration Agreement. By signing one commits to fitting into the culture, not merely coming and going.

Helpfully, the agreement contained a list of possible ways to integrate. Attending a civics course was one, passing a language exam was another. I took the civics class and eventually passed the language test. Teaching was another option.

Professional contacts that I made presented opportunities to lecture at the university level in both Florence and Rome. I befriended a professor of a nearby liceo (high school) and worked with her students on a project – a short film that I wrote about last year.

I have drawn buildings since I was seven, which eventually led to majoring in art and then switching majors to architecture in college. To keep myself occupied during the two years of the COVID pandemic I drew many of the buildings within our town of Santa Vittoria in Matenano as movement outside was sometimes discouraged and at other times prohibited. Once the pandemic finally ended, I showed the Mayor my drawings. He authorized a month-long exhibition of several dozen drawings in a public venue.

One morning, a large group of students from the local primary school visited the show. During a Q&A session several of the children asked really good questions. I proposed to use some of the proceeds from sales to benefit the school’s art program. But the school’s principal suggested that rather than giving money, I should donate time to teach. And that’s how I ended up giving lessons to fourth graders.

The staff told me that I must teach in English. One of their methods to make students learn the language is to have them learn about a specific subject in English, rather than just smothering them with grammar and verb conjugations. Many Italians schools also seek madre lingua (mother tongue) people who can teach correct pronunciation.

For the first lesson, the teachers and I took the class to a small piazza not far from the school where there was no vehicular traffic and sufficient quietude for the kids to be safe and to concentrate. I had them draw a simple composition – a wall with an arched recess, plants, and a bench. They learned how to decide what to draw and what not to draw. Also how to create a smooth curved shape. And how to suggest masonry without drawing every single block.

All of them hunkered down with sheets of sketch paper on clip boards. I showed them how to use a pencil lightly to get all the elements arranged and aligned properly. The drawing paper had light blue grid lines so they could align things vertically and horizontally. The later reproduction process would eliminate the lines.

As they progressed, the students showed me their work, to check if they were doing it right. I assured them that there are no hard and fast rules for artists; they could make whatever choices they wanted. The aim was not to replicate precisely but to express one’s own individual interpretation.

I was stunned by the results. Almost all of the kinds created images that were varied and perceptive.

For a more recent class, I had the students draw the ancient bell tower that marks the entrance to the original village center. It’s a familiar symbol of the town. Pretty much everyone entering the village passes through a narrow archway in the base of the tower. The slender tower and archway constitute the front door to the town center.

The students really dove into the assignment. A photo of the tower was displayed on a big monitor that had been wheeled into the room. I explained methods of depicting general proportions and relationships purely by looking, not measuring. Accuracy was less important than conveying the character. There were many determined faces as each young artist leaned into their work.

Each student wanted me to come over and look at their nearly finished work. I repeatedly said “Bravo!” to those small, eager faces, which brought me big smiles in return.

At 1:00 pm the class was over, and the students gathered their hats and jackets and school bags to go home for lunch. For me, the best part came last. As they filed out, several of the kids gave me hugs. I was quite moved.