Jessie O’Koon

Does your art connect to or take inspiration from any past or present art styles, techniques, or traditions? If yes, how?

My work is abstract, and I took inspiration from geometric shapes and past pieces in my Selected Works portion of my portfolio.

How did you bring together different ideas, influences, or inspirations in this artwork?

The work I make is abstract. I use balance to create a structure that incorporates contrast, texture, and color. I’m leaving recognizable parts of the clothing, reminding people to make a connection with the clothing.

Which materials and processes did you combine, and how did they work together to strengthen your ideas?

I used recycled materials as my art-making materials to create abstract compositions. I started repurposing my discarded clothes in my art, thus redirecting fabric out of the waste stream. My abstract work highlights the environmental consequences of fast fashion and landfill waste by encouraging a second life for materials that would otherwise contribute to pollution. I left parts of the clothing visible to allow the viewer to make a connection. By taking functional objects and repurposing them, I created a powerful statement about the impact of textile waste on the environment.

How did critiques or feedback from your teacher or classmates help you strengthen synthesis in this artwork?

Feedback from classmates gave me a more global sense of the environmental issue of textile waste. In the class critique, a student mentioned the process of shipping textile waste to African countries. Textile waste is a multilayered issue, which I used as inspiration when layering the fabric squares in this piece.

How did synthesis in this artwork make it more meaningful or impactful for viewers?

I'm catching the viewer's attention with the vibrant colors, organized and layered composition, and subtle textures. Upon closer inspection, the viewer will notice that it’s made from fabric. The viewer starts to recognize that this material is cut from clothing and that I used fabric as my art-making material. My goal is to motivate them to learn more about the environmental impacts of textile waste.

What do your Selected Works show about your growth as an artist?

I started to explore using a grid as my compositional structure. I liked the organization and the repetition, and then I explored different types of variation, moving beyond the confines of the grid. I used layering of shapes and color-value changes to play with depth of field, pushing back and pulling forward, creating a three-dimensional surface. I went from painting over a smooshed-up sweatshirt to cutting it up and manipulating it to create a more complex composition.

What did you learn about yourself as an artist in the process of creating synthesis and curating your Selected Works, and how will you use that learning in the future?

In the process of creating this work, I learned that the materials and motivations I use to create my work is one branch of who I am as an artist. At first I thought my work was solely about the environment, but over time I discovered that the environment is my inspiration for the materials that I’m using. This piece can be appreciated as a standalone work of art and for its aesthetic qualities. My artwork represents the synthesis of the materials and my ideas as an artist.

How often did your class meet?

My AP Drawing and Painting course is a dedicated, yearlong class designed to function much like an independent studio. Students work on developing a Sustained Investigation over time, with lots of room for self-direction and individual voice. While I provide structure through project prompts, skill-building exercises, and regular critiques, students have significant freedom to pursue personal ideas and interests. The class is a mix of guided instruction, peer collaboration, one-on-one mentorship, and, of course, lots of good music playing. I always let the students collaborate on a class music playlist and allow them to help curate their experience in the classroom/studio. Early in the year, we focus on exploration, experimentation, and developing conceptual thinking. As the year progresses, students take more ownership of their process: setting goals, planning bodies of work, and refining their visual and written articulation. Jessie’s work is a perfect example: What began as a question about textile waste evolved into a rich visual language of painted fabric compositions that balance geometry, texture, and environmental commentary. It’s a highly individualized experience, but one rooted in a strong classroom community where students learn from and challenge one another and form lifelong relationships.

How did you guide students in developing and refining their inquiry statements and portfolio direction during their Sustained Investigations?

How did you help students strengthen technical skills and apply design knowledge (elements and principles) while also developing creative problem-solving habits?

I approach technical skills and creative problem-solving as things that develop side by side. My students build both simultaneously as part of the same creative process. Early in the year, we focus on strengthening foundational skills through lessons on composition, mark-making, observational drawing, and the intentional use of elements and principles. But those lessons are always connected to bigger ideas. For example, I pair a lesson in composition with a sketchbook challenge like the “one-word” prompt, where students choose a single word that was used to describe their work in a critique and build a two-page sketchbook spread from it. This gets them thinking about how design choices can support meaning right from the start. And it gets them to break down their own work into simple terms and build it back up again. From there, the work becomes more exploratory and student-driven. Jessie, for instance, used these foundational skills to experiment with scale, texture, and structure as she arranged painted fabric into geometric grids and layered compositions. Her decisions about color, unity, and rhythm were rooted in our design lessons but pushed further as she solved visual problems, like how to balance structure and spontaneity or how to highlight seams and folds without overwhelming the composition. By the end of the year, students aren’t just applying design knowledge—they’re using it strategically to solve problems, communicate ideas, and make bold, thoughtful choices in their work.

In what ways did you structure opportunities for practice, experimentation, and revision into your curriculum?

Opportunities for practice, experimentation, and revision are built into almost every part of my curriculum, not just as “extra steps,” but as essential parts of the creative process. Early in the year, students work in sketchbooks, exploring materials, techniques, and visual problem-solving through short, low-pressure prompts. These exercises, like the “one-word” challenge or media exploration studies, help them to loosen up, take risks, and see experimentation as a regular part of art making rather than something reserved for finished pieces. Jessie’s portfolio grew directly out of this mindset. Some of her early work involved testing how paint adhered to different fabrics, experimenting with block printing on cloth, and layering materials in unexpected ways. Those studies, even when they “failed,” informed later breakthroughs, like her decision to unify fabric surfaces with a single color palette or to highlight seams and edges as compositional elements. Revision is also built into our critique process. Students revisit earlier works with fresh eyes, often pushing pieces further based on new insights or feedback. This iterative process helps them see their art as something that evolves over time, just as Jessie’s pieces did, becoming more resolved and conceptually powerful with each round of experimentation.

I try to integrate writing into the creative process in ways that feel natural and meaningful, rather than treating it as a separate assignment. Early in the year, students do short writing activities in their sketchbooks: things like quick reflections, lists of interests or questions, or short responses to prompts tied to their “one-word” sketchbook work or early investigations. This helps them practice putting visual ideas into words before there’s any pressure to be formal or polished. As their bodies of work grow, we revisit their writing regularly. Students revise their initial inquiry statements, write about what they’re noticing in their own work, and reflect on how their ideas are evolving. I also build in guided writing exercises during critiques—for example, asking them to describe the choices they made in a piece and how those decisions connect to their broader investigation. A big part of this process also happens collaboratively. Students post their finished work and sometimes sketchbook explorations on Padlet, where they write about their own pieces and comment on each other’s. Their peer feedback focuses on technique, composition, and conceptual choices, which helps them learn to use visual vocabulary, analyze work critically, and articulate their ideas clearly. This was especially helpful for Jessie, whose portfolio required explaining not just what she made but why those choices mattered, from leaving clothing details visible to symbolize consumer culture to painting over fabric as a metaphor for transformation. By the time we approach the more formal written components, students’ reflections are more authentic and deeply connected to their work.

Critiques and peer interaction are central to how my students grow. These are not occasional events, but, rather, ongoing conversations. We hold formal critiques throughout the year, but just as often the feedback happens informally: spontaneous group discussions, quick “gallery walks,” or students pulling each other over to say, “Come look at this. What do you think?” These interactions help them see their work through fresh eyes and learn how others are interpreting their ideas. For Sustained Investigations, critiques focus on the “why” behind the work. Students practice explaining their conceptual choices, reflecting on how their ideas are evolving, and connecting their decisions back to their inquiry. Classmates respond with observations and questions that push those ideas further, often sparking breakthroughs or new directions. Because they hear so many perspectives, students become more comfortable taking creative risks and more confident revising their work. When preparing for Selected Works, critiques shift toward presentation, craftsmanship, and curation. These conversations helped Jessie identify which pieces best showcased her technical skill, like her large-scale painted fabric grids, and how to present them to tell a cohesive story. Overall, critiques create a culture where feedback is normal, expected, and valued, not something to fear. Students learn to give and receive critique with curiosity and generosity, which not only improves their artwork but also builds the collaborative skills they’ll carry into any creative environment.

Managing materials in an AP Art classroom is part organization, part scavenger hunt, and part creative problem-solving, and I try to make all three feel like part of the learning process. At the start of the year, we set up clear systems together: Students learn where everything lives, how to clean and store tools, and how to keep shared spaces functional so everyone has what they need when they need it. I treat it a bit like running a shared studio: Everyone pitches in, and everyone takes ownership. Because sustained investigations go in so many different directions, I keep a wide variety of materials on hand, from drawing and painting essentials to collage papers, inks, and mixed media tools. I often find myself at the dollar store, thrift store, or local repurposed craft store, hunting down beads, moss, weird paper, or whatever else I think could come in handy! One of the most important parts of my setup is a dedicated AP storage area in my supply closet that students can access independently, even when I’m not in the room. That trust and autonomy make a big difference; they know they have the freedom to experiment, try new materials on the spot, or pivot mid-project without needing permission first. The flexibility of materials was key for Jessie, whose work required collecting her old dance outfits and other clothing and textiles, cutting, painting, and reconfiguring discarded clothing into new compositions. Having the freedom to experiment with materials on her own time made her process feel more authentic and self-directed, much like a professional studio practice.

To strengthen our visual arts programming, we restructured our AP Art and Design program several years ago to align more closely with the mediums represented in our other course offerings, creating specific courses such as AP 2-D Art and Design and AP Drawing. This intentional design established clear and logical pathways for students to progress from introductory to advanced coursework within their chosen medium. It also allowed us to schedule classes more effectively, ensuring that all students have equitable access to the facilities, equipment, and materials necessary for their success. As a result, we’ve seen a significant increase in enrollment across our AP Art and Design courses while maintaining a consistently high level of student performance and creative achievement.

What advice would you share with other school leaders about building and sustaining strong AP Art and Design programs?