How I Became an Art Therapist
- Taya Jefferson
- Dec 2
- 5 min read
Growing up, I wanted to be a Doctor so bad, a Pediatrician to be exact. For as long as I can remember, I have just wanted to do something in this world that helps other people, especially kids. I started my first year of college in 2011, as a “pre-med” major—it was a two year school (BMCC), so I was just taking the general education requirements, mixed with some science classes for when it was time to go to medical school. Biology was such a hard class, to be honest, I think my college advisor, had advised me to take the much harder course, when I actually didn’t need it—so a nice big fat “F”, went on my transcripts, and to get that off, I would have to take the class AGAIN…thankfully I was able to take the easier course to remove that grade. Oh and I forgot to mention that I failed chemistry in the 11th grade, but luckily I ended up moving, and my new high school accepted my 9th grade biology grade instead…..I did not want to take chemistry again!
Now back to college, I graduated with my A.A in 2013, the following year I started at a four year school (York CUNY), still “pre-med”. You basically needed chemistry as a pre-req, in order to take any of the other sciences—boringgg. The thing about me with chemistry is, once we are done with the periodic table, I completely check-out. So once again, I was on track to failing chemistry, like I had in high-school. I was starting to realize that science and math really held no interest for me, so why was I still trying to become a Doctor? Well, being the first person to go to college in your family, along with people already bragging that you’re going to be a Doctor, is a lot of pressure.
Somewhere along the line, I think another college advisor suggested going the route of Physician’s Assistant—still medical, working closely with Doctors, and less school. So I convinced my parents I had a new plan, changed my major to Psychology, and tried to go the science route one more time…let’s be real, at this point I didn’t even know what I wanted to be anymore, but all I knew was that I did not like science, and if I did not like science, I was not going to even make it to med-school, let alone enjoy a “fulfilling career” as a Doctor. I still wanted to help people in need, but I wasn’t sure how. PA was thrown out the window, and I decided I would stay a psych major, and would pursue a career as a psychotherapist, but the idea of just talking with someone and taking notes while they lie on a couch, was not appealing to me—I wanted to do more.
Throughout college, I was noticing that I was actually pretty good with art, specifically photography. My professor at BMCC was on the board for an art school, and she encouraged me to go that route, but I knew my parents would not be okay with that—going from wanting to work in medicine, and then switching to art? That sounded insane to me at the time, especially with the brooding father I had, dangling him paying my tuition over my head every chance he got—thankfully, this stopped, and even though I had to take out loans, now I was in full control of my college experience, and my future. Now stepping into senior year of undergrad, I’m getting straight A’s in photography, and my old professor’s words still lingering. At the time I was now taking advanced photography classes, and learning how to use the darkroom (this was so cool)—I want a dark room in my house. This photography professor was so great, she even wrote me a letter of recommendation for graduate school.
Alright, so it is now Fall 2015, and the first semester of my final year in undergrad. I was sitting in photography class, waiting for my photos to develop—the class was pretty chill when we had nothing to really do. I had my iPad with me, so I decided to google, “what can I do with psychology and art”—cue me discovering the American Art Therapy Association (AATA), and I felt like I just struck gold, because this is exactly what I have been looking for, my entire life—a fulfilling career, doing something I actually chose, and like. The AATA website is an amazing resource for all Art Therapy requirements—it said I needed 15 credits of art classes, and 18 credits of psych classes. I already had some of them, since I was now a psych major, so I went and added studio art as my minor. I had less than a full school year to take the remaining classes I would need to get into grad school—this was the first time in my entire life, where school felt exciting.
Now it was crunch time. I had to take these classes, take the MATs, pick schools, go to orientations, get letters of recommendations, and interviews with prospective graduate programs—especially since I wanted to go straight into grad school after graduating, I did not want to take a break, because in the past I had to with school, and it wasn’t my choice (parents’ finances), and I know I can get lazy and just decide not to go to school altogether. I was interested in three graduate schools: The School of Visual Arts (SVA) in Manhattan, Pratt Institute in Brooklyn, and Norte Dame de Namur in California (this school doesn’t offer an Art Therapy program anymore). I didn’t get into Norte Dame, because I missed the MAT score by just a few points. I went to an open house for SVA, the school is beautiful, but the program was not speaking to me as much, so I decided not to apply. I went to Pratt’s open house, and if you ever get the chance, visit the campus, it is beautiful, (and you can check out my thesis in the library)—this became my number one choice.
Spring semester of 2016, the last semester before graduating with my B.A., I applied to Pratt, and to my surprise, I was chosen for an interview with the head of the Art Therapy Dept. I was shocked, because as we know, I had some failed grades on my transcripts, and my entire life I was never “good at school”—I asked her what made me stand out, she said she enjoyed my personal statement, and my art portfolio, she also said, “this is an art school”, and they are not focused on GPA. I want to say somewhere around March 2016, I was in bed watching some trashy reality tv I’m sure, and I get an e-mail alert from Pratt Institute. I GOT IN! And, with a partial scholarship—with my barely 2.0 GPA—but I GOT IN to the Art Therapy and Creativity Development program—I started Fall 2016. The rest was history, and I am always forever grateful to my 22/23 self, for making such a courageous and smart decision, career wise. Writing this now, just reminds me, that I can do anything I put my mind to, especially if younger me could—anyone can.
