Makers & Mentors: Marty Epp-Carter

A Fail Safe Way to Navigate Dating Apps in 2025,  Mixed media, 22"x30", unframed

Reflections on Teaching and Making 

I never wanted to be a teacher. However, now that I’ve had that honor, I refer to those thirty years as my accidental teaching career. I retired from that career two years ago. The teaching was sprinkled in with intentional pursuits…a BA in Mass Communication, a masters in counseling psychology, an BFA in Fine Art and an MFA in Printmaking. Underneath all this was a single desire: I always wanted to be an artist. However, in choosing a path for undergrad in 1979, I had no faith that I could support myself being an artist, so I chose journalism and graphic design instead. That, too, was an accident. But not one I regret for it was at Boston University that I was a TA for the first time. It was there that I had an inkling of what it was like to help others to learn. But it was only an inkling and I stopped teaching as soon as I graduated. 

So there were years of freelance gigs, doing pretty much whatever I knew how to do, and then a marriage that paid my way so I could work in my studio full time. Finally, the artist I wanted to be. But eventually, that marriage ended and I needed to make money fast. I took a teaching job at the DeCordova Museum and Sculpture Park. That led to others, which led to wanting to teach at a higher level, which led to a Masters Degree which led to the qualifications to teach full time. It was no longer an accident. It was what I knew I wanted. What I didn’t know was that what I did in the classroom and in the studio, would have a great impact on others and would make a difference far beyond my reach. Here is one example that I cherish and that changed me as well. 

It’s graduation day after my first year teaching high school students at the Governor’s School. Through the crowd a cap and gown clad student approached me with great urgency. “I’m glad I found you! This is for you.” Out from her bra she retrieved a folded up note. “Sorry it’s sweaty…This thing has no pockets.” She flapped the arms of the long black robe and handed me the limp and folded note, then retreated through the crowd to find her parents. Later, unfolding the note, I thought about the student. She shone brightly with poise, social grace and intelligence. A straight A student, all AP classes, this was a young person for whom the world would open wide. As I read the note, however, tears came to my eyes. 

It said: “Epp-Carter, thank you for being such a great teacher. I learned so much in every class with you. Thank you for believing in me and for making me more brave with my art than I’ve ever been.” The words jumped off the page as I read them. I’d helped someone be brave! I had no idea that I could do that. That someone I taught could change in this way. Change so much that her art, an expression of herself, would now be brave. I’d done something right that was going to ripple out into the world. I knew then that it was no accident that I was here. 

That was 14 years ago. The classes under my belt include, but are not limited to: classes for all ages at community art centers and museum art programs; Intro to Design, and Drawing 101 at Clemson; Foundations of Art at Anderson; and at the Governor’s School Visual Language, Themes of Contemporary Art, Drawing from Observation, Figure Drawing, Intro to Printmaking, Printmaking Concentration, and Mindfulness. Professional Development led me to Penland to study typesetting and University of Georgia at Athens for Non-Toxic Practices in the Print Studio. I co-founded a Printmaking Collective that continues to be active in community service and I belong to other collectives in the US. My work is in private and public collections in the US and abroad. Two galleries show my work; one in Massachusetts and one in Greenville. I have a mentor who once said to me, “Epp, you’ll be a good teacher. But keep in mind, teaching lies to you. You think you’re making art by being around it all day. But you’re actually helping other people make their art. And when you get home you’re too tired to make your own. Just keep that in mind. There’s sacrifices to be made.” 

So, now I’ve retired. Now, finally, I can be in my studio full time again. Just me and the printing press and all the tools I’ve amassed over the years. This will be great! 

(Dramatic pause for effect…) 

After a month in my studio as a full time artist, something was missing… it was the students. It was the interaction I have with someone who is becoming brave. What I’ve realized is that one never retires from teaching; instead, the classroom becomes the whole world and… when the student is ready, the teacher appears. 

Marty Epp-Carter

www.martyeppcarterstudio.com