The Shoebox

One day, what appeared to be “out of the blue,” our instructor announced, “Clear your desks.”

Right away my classmates made quite a racket as they piled their textbooks and notebooks on the ledge below their seats. As soon as the desktops were cleared and the room became silent our instructor spoke again, “I have an unusual assignment. Each one of you will be given a covered shoebox. Inside the box are art supplies. There are four simple rules you must follow for this assignment: 1. You must create something with the shoebox and its lid while using all of the items in the box. 2. You may only use what is in your own shoebox. 3. You may not share or trade of any of the items. 4. You may not open your box until I say to do so.”

Miss Sheets walked up and down the aisles as she set a covered shoebox on each one of our desks. The boxes came in all sorts of different shapes, sizes, and colors. I waited with anticipation for her to reach my desk. When she finally did, she paused before she released the rectangular box to me. I was the last student to receive a shoebox. It was hard to hold back my excitement and enthusiasm. It felt like Christmas!

“You have only one hour to complete this assignment,” said our teacher. Then she raised her hand in midair as she clicked her stop watch. “Begin!”

Immediately I opened my shoebox. I peered inside. I could not believe my eyes! There were only four items. I removed the items one-by-one and placed them on my desktop. There was an old tattered magazine, with only a small number of pages, barely left intact. There was a small container of black paint, a well-worn stubby paint brush, and a pair of blunt-edged scissors, like I used in elementary school. I looked at the four items next to the empty container. This wasn’t what I had expected. How in the world was I supposed to make an “art project” with a tattered magazine and black paint? I wondered. But, I was determined to make use of what little I had.

I glanced over to my right and saw Linda had beautiful ribbons, glitter, Elmer’s glue, and a paper-hole puncher. Mary on my left had a pair of adult scissors, scotch tape, and construction paper in every color of the rainbow. I re-focused my thoughts on my own items. I realized the clock was ticking. I didn’t have time to be observant. I didn’t have time to wonder what others had. I didn’t have time to procrastinate. There was less than an hour to go. Instead of fear, I looked at this assignment as a puzzle to solve instead as a problem. I was not going to give up. I had to make do with whatever I had, which wasn’t much. Then all of a sudden a brainstorm came to me!

How I made it, well, that’s a long story. The condensed version: I ended up creating an intriguing piece of art, a three-foot tree. I applied some black paint to the well-worn stubby paint brush. I painted the tree, here and there. I knew I couldn’t paint the entire tree solid black because the flimsy magazine pages would not be able to support wet paint. Once the tree was painted to my liking, I carefully used the old paint brush to write a caption on the side of the shoebox. Detailed and carefully, I printed: ‘The future tree of America if pollution keeps up.’

I glanced up at the clock. That’s when I noticed Miss Sheets. She stood in the front of the classroom with her arms crossed over her chest. She had been watching me. She gave me an enthusiastic nod with a proud glint in her eye.

The hour was up. Not only did I figure things out, I did it just in the nick of time. We were instructed to place our art projects on the windowsill and were excused for a 15-minute recess. As I carried my tree sculpture toward the window, I felt the blood drain from my face as I saw a few of the finished projects. I couldn’t help but marvel at the things before my eyes. There was a beautifully covered wagon, a clever Valentine mailbox, and an adorable picnic basket. I felt as though my tree sculpture didn’t have a chance among the outstanding finished assignments.

When we returned to the classroom, Miss Sheets was ready to critique our work. I awaited the criticism that I knew in all likelihood would come my way. I glanced back at my poor, pitiful, sad tree. I felt increasingly uncomfortable.

When Miss Sheets came to my project, I recall that she seemed to choose her words carefully. Of all the possibilities I had played out in my head…her reaction, her words, was never one of them. Miss Sheets’ voice was soft, “I just wanted to tell you,” she said, pausing. “I just want to tell you, Michele,” she began again, “I believe you will have the ability to overcome any obstacles and challenges in your life. You will have confidence in the face of hardships. You will most likely succeed at anything you set out to do.”

Her words surprised me. I did not fully understand what my teacher meant at the time. After all, I was only seventeen.

For some people, the path to their career is clear and straightforward—a tidy line from point A to point B. Others however, arrive at their professional destination via a more winding road, accumulating a wealth of diverse experiences along the way. I fell in the latter category. Going to college right after high school had never been an option for me. After graduating from Penta with a degree in Child Care I landed a full-time job working as a live-in nanny in Chappaqua, New York. That job was exciting because I got to spend my days with three bright and gifted children! On weekends I spent my time off in New York City. That was always an adventure!  

But, in time I became homesick and returned to Ohio. A classmate from Penta showed me her factory job paycheck. It was more money than what I’d ever seen someone earn in one week. So my teaching career ended up taking a major detour after I hired into a can manufacturing plant.  My 5-year plan was to save up a boat load of money and then find a teaching position. Ha! But, then life happened. I had 2 children, a mortgage and a car payment. I worked 12-hour shifts on an assembly line, 7-days a week. The work was repetitive and boring. I couldn’t afford to quit. I had too many responsibilities.

But as life would have it, a passion remained inside me that just wouldn’t leave. I started helping people re-arrange their furnishings, hang prized pictures, and paint rooms. In spite of a busy work and family life, I started a painting company. The multi-tasking between two jobs started to take a toll on me. I wanted to leave the factory but was afraid to do so. I kept praying for an answer. Then one day the factory closed, and the business left the country. After 28-years I was out of a job. NAFTA offered the employees paid college tuition; but it came with 3 rules: you must attend school full-time, you must carry a B average, and you could not work while going to school.

Armed with talent, determination, and a whole lot of desperation, I decided to take the government up on their offer to pursue my passion. I enrolled in a 2-year Interior Design program at Davis College with kids that were half my age. I knew I needed to get through college fast in order to obtain a job to support my family. So I took extra credit hours each semester. I studied hard. I worked diligently. College was much harder than high school. At last, all of my hard work and determination paid off. I graduated with honors in a year and half.

After college graduation I was offered my first design related job, selling furniture. Two years later I was offered another job as a kitchen and bath designer. Each time I made a career choice, I took another step. I worked hard at designing hundreds of kitchens and bathrooms. My design work was featured in numerous Better Homes & Gardens magazines and other design and lifestyle magazine publications.

Eleven years ago my life took another turn when I married and moved to Florida. By day, I work as a professional interior designer. I create beautiful rooms that meet the styles, needs, and budgets of each client. By night, I am a creative writer, who dreams about kitchen and bath designs. I am a published author of one book, writer of numerous inspirational blogs, and have been published in Woman’s World magazine.

Over the years when someone asks, “How did you get to where you are in your career?” I fondly remember back to the shoebox project. I love telling this story as a metaphor art lesson, like the way we use extreme exaggeration to make a point or show emphasis. For example, when way we say, “I’m so hungry I could eat a horse.” Or “I waited an eternity to go shopping with you,” or “I love you to the moon and back.” For years whenever I thought about that shoebox I used to think that there were so many other items missing in that cardboard box besides art supplies: my hearing, my self-esteem, talent, confidence. If you’re one of the lucky people whose shoebox is loaded with every imaginable art item, and you know you have identified your gifts and talents early in life, then congratulations. But if you’re presented with a shoebox like the one I had, then work hard, follow your dreams and talents, find something you can be passionate about, face rejections head-on, and do the best you can with what you’ve been given.

My teacher at Penta expected more, saw more, and believed in me because she saw extraordinary talent and dedication. She saw things in me at a time when I had not yet seen them myself. Teachers and schools who provide hands-on experiences like the one I had can be life-changing. I can’t thank the school enough for changing this life