Why I Dropped Out of RISD

How I chose purpose & integrity over prestige

Joshua Hoering
8 min readNov 30, 2024

In 2008, armed with a freshly minted BFA in studio art and a minor in art history, I found myself on the precipice of a significant life decision. The academic year had just ended, and I applied to nine MFA programs, a challenging decision that would determine the trajectory of my career and life. My applications were successful beyond my wildest dreams as I was accepted into several top-tier programs, including my dream school: the Rhode Island School of Design (RISD). RISD, with its acceptance rate hovering around a mere ~15%, was an aspiration that many artists dared to dream of but few realized. The prestige, the legacy, the opportunity to learn from some of the best minds in the art world — it was all within my grasp.

Yet, there was another tantalizing offer on the table: a full-ride scholarship and a teaching position at Indiana University which paid a salary. It was an honor, to say the least. The security and recognition that came with such an offer were substantial, but the allure and honor of RISD, ranked number one in the country at the time, was irresistible. So, with a mixture of excitement and trepidation, I turned down Indiana University’s generous offer and accepted my place at RISD. I packed my bags and moved to Providence, ready to immerse myself in an environment that promised to nurture and challenge my artistic abilities.

My journey at RISD began with enthusiasm. Regular trips to NYC and the studio classes were intensive, the critiques were rigorous, and the atmosphere was electric with creativity well beyond the walls of the classroom. However, as the semester progressed, I found myself grappling with an unexpected dilemma. Despite being enrolled in a teacher certification program while working on the MFA, I realized that the primary focus of my classes was on refining my skills as an artist, not necessarily preparing me to become the educator I aspired to be. While I deeply valued the artistic growth, my career goals were becoming increasingly misaligned with the demands of the program.

It was late 2008, so the recession was tightening its grip on the economy. One evening, I decided to research the job market for college-level teaching positions. To my dismay, I found only a single listing. Unbeknownst to me at the time, the hiring season for professors primarily occurs at the start of the new year and into the spring, but at that moment, the scarcity of opportunities felt like a sign. Between the economy, job market, and the financial strain of RISD’s tuition, I started to question my path.

The cost of attending RISD was astronomical, and the pressure was mounting. I called my family, seeking their advice and support. I was encouraged to take a long weekend to reflect on my decision. I spent that weekend in deep contemplation, writing, and soul-searching. When woke up on Monday morning, I was certain. I decided to leave RISD.

At 8:00 AM, I called my advisor to request a meeting, who was preparing to start his 9:00 class. He suggested we meet over lunch and I responded with wanting to drop out of the program. He told me to come to his office after our phone call and he cancelled his morning class. During our meeting, I poured out my thoughts and frustrations, including a particularly disheartening experience in the Financial Aid office where I had to wait in line to sign loan paperwork. To me, it felt absurd that students should queue up to take on massive debt; it seemed more appropriate that administrators should be lining up to counsel prospective students about their financial futures in a thoughtful and caring way. After all, are schools more concerned about building futures for their students or securing profit?

My advisor listened intently and then directed me to a high-ranking official in a large wooden office overlooking Providence. This man, the director of financial aid, had the authority to grant scholarships and ease my financial burden, but our conversation did not yield the relief I was searching for. It wasn’t really about money; it was about values, purpose, and building a future. Returning to my advisor, I reiterated my certainty about leaving the program. This time, he sent me to the registrar’s office, where I encountered the kindest person I’d met in all of my time at RISD, who guided me through the withdrawal process in a friendly and empathetic way that made moving forward easy.

After signing and dating the last page of the paperwork, I walked out by the river that flows through Providence and divides near the ocean. I journaled my thoughts and observations not wanting to forget the moment. As I stood up to leave, I passed John Maeda, the then-president of RISD, dressed in a stylish transparent trench coat. We exchanged brief greetings, but I doubt he had any idea who I was or the significance of that moment for me.

In the days that followed, I packed up my studio and apartment to leave Providence. I returned to Indiana, where my family lived, and soon after, my brother and I embarked on a road trip to Portland, Oregon, to stay with our aunt and uncle. It was in Portland that I began to rethink my ambitions and dreams. Surrounded by family and the breathtaking Pacific Northwest, I reconnected with my values and beliefs.

Determined to align my career with my desire to serve others, I decided this was best met by pursuing a Master of Science in Education (MSEd) at Indiana University. My interest in museums and education had grown during my three years working in museums and being president of the Arts Students League while being an undergraduate, so I saw this new path as an opportunity to blend my passion for art with my commitment to people and communities. Whether in museums or schools, the emphasis on service above self and working directly with people became central to my drive.

During my time at Indiana University, I was fortunate to secure an assistantship at the Center for Postsecondary Research, where I contributed to the Strategic National Arts Alumni Project (SNAAP). This project involved surveying graduates from art, design, theater, and music programs at the high school, undergraduate, and graduate levels across the country. Analyzing both quantitative and qualitative data from thousands of respondents, I gained invaluable insights into the outcomes of arts education. The reports we produced were utilized by schools who paid for them and our national reports featured in major publications like the New York Times, the Chronicle of Higher Education, and the Washington Post. While learning from the data, I worked alongside nationally celebrated researchers in higher education and sociology, which together helped me come to conclusions about the sense of service, stability, and public-facing opportunities a career in teaching could offer. The sustainable lifestyle and emphasis on students over a personal creative practice seemed like a good fit.

As I delved deeper into the Master of Science in Education program, I found immense joy and intellectual fascination in my fieldwork experiences in a variety of schools in Bloomington, Indiana and in gaining new skills in curriculum development. Learning to build curricula that is historically informed, philosophically sound, policy-aware, and contemporary was exhilarating. My studies guided me beyond the teaching methods I had experienced as a student toward creating innovative and engaging educational experiences for my future students.

In 2013, I moved to Chicago and began working with inner city students. Within a year of teaching, I started working with a nonprofit where I coordinated 4 exhibitions at the state level to connect students across the state to scholarship opportunities that impacted countless lives of students. I also started a 2 year residency at the Museum of Contemporary Art, and worked with academics and policy makers to revise the new Visual Arts Learning Standards for K-12 education for the entire state of Illinois. Together, these experiences outside being a teacher brought so much excitement for me while building a career in such an artistically vibrant city was truly a joy.

In 2017, however, I was hired at a high performing school in Downers Grove and I decided to continue the unfinished chapter of earning an MFA, so I began working on the degree at the Savannah College of Art and Design (SCAD) under a scholarship. The timing was serendipitous, as the pandemic provided the perfect opportunity to focus on my studies. I completed the degree in 2023, and as it was a terminal degree, I became eligible to teach at the college level. I began applying for positions and soon landed a teaching role at a local college.

Teaching at the college level is markedly different from teaching high school and it’s been so fun to experience both. College students, whether fresh out of high school, career changers, or retirees seeking new skills, bring a diverse range of motivations and experiences to the classroom. This diversity requires a flexible and adaptive teaching approach, as each student seeks different outcomes from the class. Some are focused on completing a degree, while others are developing skills to join the workforce. High school students on the other hand are motivated by smaller set of constraints, but show up every day out of routine which has enormous benefits to the relationships I build with them. For some, it’ll be their first and last art/design class they’ll ever take and for others it’s the beginning of a career and lifestyle. For both groups of students, I’ve found so many opportunities to mentor and guide people through their steps toward meeting their goals. It’s been an honor for me.

Reflecting on my journey, I have distilled ten principles that have guided me and can serve as a compass for others navigating similar paths:

  1. Follow Your Passion, but Stay Practical: While following your passion is crucial, remain practical about the financial and career implications of your choices.
  2. Seek Guidance and Support: Don’t hesitate to reach out to family, mentors, and advisors when faced with significant decisions.
  3. Be Open to Change: Sometimes, the path you start on may not be the one you finish. Be open to reevaluating and adjusting your goals.
  4. Value Education, but Don’t Be Defined by It: Your education is a tool, not a definition of who you are. Use it to build the life and career you want.
  5. Balance Art and Practicality: For artists, finding a balance between creating art and achieving practical career goals is essential.
  6. Embrace Uncertainty: Uncertainty can lead to growth and new opportunities. Don’t shy away from it.
  7. Prioritize Financial Stability: Financial stability can provide the freedom to pursue your passions without constant stress.
  8. Commit to Lifelong Learning: Education doesn’t end with a degree. Commit to lifelong learning and growth in your field.
  9. Cultivate Resilience: Challenges and setbacks are part of the journey. Cultivate resilience to navigate them successfully.
  10. Stay True to Your Values: Let your values guide your decisions and actions, ensuring your career aligns with your beliefs and aspirations.

Thanks for taking the time to read my story. I’m hoping this becomes a springboard in the future for my students and I, but also in conversation with friends, colleagues, and family, too.

What has been your experience been like as a student of art or as an educator? I’d love to hear your perspective.

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Joshua Hoering
Joshua Hoering

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