This interview has been lightly edited for length and clarity.
Marissa Cameron (Media Arts, 2012) grew up in a family where creativity accompanied every decision. Between her pianist father and her aunt, a renowned author, Marissa was destined for a life in the arts. Marissa was torn between Media Arts and Theatre before starting her journey at The Academy in 2009. After a discussion with school administrators and family, she decided to pursue writing and Media Arts, where she found her home. Now a writer, poet, filmmaker, and graphic designer for JP Morgan Chase, Marissa embodies the busy artist mentality. Read below to hear about her time at The Academy, her career in the arts, and learning to be creative with your body through rugby.
When’s the last time you visited The Academy?
My first big job out of college, I was working in the Willis Tower at a marketing firm, then switched to an ad agency in the Hancock Building. I jumped from one Chicago-shaped thing to another, and every day I would pass The Academy on my way to work. So I can’t say the last time I visited, but I was always threatening to stop in and say hello. At some point, I went to a Media Arts Senior Show, but I forgot when. I remember the sign-in process feeling weird because I had to get a name badge.
What’s your Academy story?
It’s interesting because I grew up in an artsy-fartsy family. Everyone in my family plays piano except for me, so I’m kind of the weirdo for doing everything else. I grew up doing theatre and actually auditioned for that and the writing program (Media Arts). I got into both, so Patera and Pam Jordan told me to pick one, see how it feels, and then we’ll revisit after a semester. I picked the writing department. As an incoming student, they ask you to submit poems, short stories, etc. But for my audition, I generated a lot of those pieces only shortly before the due date. Growing up in an artistic family, you don’t second-guess yourself as much as you would in another life. I’m extremely privileged and grateful to have been raised by parents who value creativity. Mr. Patera’s teaching philosophy is actually based off my aunt’s book – The Artist’s Way. The way that she looks at life permeates through my whole family. I was a weird kid in elementary school, so the Academy was the right place for me. I was the kid reading books during recess and a lot of my friends at the school were those types of kids as well. We had a place to grow safely.
What’s part of your legacy at the school?
Even before Justin Tranter donated the recording studio to the music department, the school reminded me of my house growing up. We have a recording studio in our basement, so a lot of the first Media Arts film scores were recorded at my childhood house, with my dad engineering and my mom coaching the vocal performances. It was really special because it was the first time a lot of the Music students put headphones on and heard themselves sing or play. My family has always tried to donate their time to support other artists. So we had the music department kids over, bass, trumpet, you name it, my dad even put a wawa pedal on a cello for the rock song. We were on a deadline for the Media Arts show, so everyone slept over to record more the next day, while my dad mixed and mastered the tracks late into the night—perfectly normal extension of my life growing up. Knowing they now offer a professional studio recording environment at The Academy, now all of them can have a taste of what I had as a kid, it really warms my heart.
As for the Media Arts “Big Movie” project, now I believe they are on less of a time crunch, script writing takes place junior year and the film’s production gets the entire senior year. The school grew and changed just like we did. At the end of the day, finding an artistic family through my friends was something I knew I always wanted, but never thought I would actually get. It’s rare to come into life with a wish list like that and get to check those things off, but you get that chance at The Academy.
What is your artistic background?
I did musical theatre for 13 years and considered pursuing that in college, and even thought about stage management. The Academy was just the right place for someone like me. I found my voice there, one could joke. I think I was also the type of kid who got to the school super early, before anyone else. Ms. Gold would let me into the building and say “you’re not supposed to be in this early.” But I would get there at 7 a.m. every day just to spend an extra hour and a half in the Media Arts lab – thinking, writing, scribbling on the board, who knows? The Academy was the perfect world to explore my interests.
What’s your life like now?
A lot of folks can come out of high school with emotional baggage and I would be remiss if I didn’t mention that. [Marissa described a challenging situation with a teacher.] I became very disillusioned with writing by the time I got to college. I was told by that teacher to look for a conservatory, but I thought about trying to attend a school accessible by CTA that had a mascot. Loyola was the perfect choice, as it was attended by some of my favorite teachers at the Academy and close to home. I’ve always known I’d make art wherever I went, so going to Loyola made sense to me. Plus, by the time I got to college, I was a published poet and Poet Laureate of Three Oaks, Michigan. The skill set I ended up leaning into was all the years of learning photoshop at The Academy. So I ended up in graphic design. If theatre was my first love, and writing was my second, design became my third. It took me a very long time to come back to writing “just for me”. Ultimately, my time at The Academy was really a gift.
What’s one of your favorite memories from The Academy?
We had a teacher who had these incredible sayings. Quick-witted and funny, he was just the best. One time, he was critiquing our assignments and said to the class “You have to think about your work ethic like your breakfast – the chicken was involved, but the pig was committed.” Nobody except my friend Sam (whose accent colors were beige and Home-Depot orange, a true visual arts kid), and I laughed, but it’s those little moments that stick with me. All of the drama and the nightmares from high school get kind of washed away when I remember those times. I would say my time at The Academy was fraught with difficulties and personal growth that I wouldn’t trade for anything.
What’s something new you’ve done since your time at the school?
I started taking up rugby in college. I had just gotten out of a relationship and was spending a lot of time in my dorm room. My mom told me to “find the other Jews” and my dad said “pick a sport”, so I went to the organization fair and passed the knitting table and all the other clubs. Then I saw what looked like a football. Since I was always good at throwing the football and wrestling my cousins, I thought “why not?” I showed up and they became my family.
Everywhere I go, I try to offer my artistic skills to people. So I would offer to make recruitment flyers and redo our 10-year-old logo. My dad had a similar philosophy about playing the piano. He thought “how do you make money doing something you love?” People struggle balancing money and passion, and the world isn’t really set up for you to succeed at both. My dad has always said to make yourself indispensable and I think you can do that in any art form. You can also have an artistic life without making money doing it. It goes back to my aunt’s philosophy that everyone is creative. Creativity is a spiritual act; it’s a way of connecting with your fellow humans. I found that playing rugby is a way of being creative with my body.
What’s an important lesson engrained from The Academy?
My favorite time to visit The Academy is on Fridays or Thursday during workshop. I was around when we invented “snapping” and “anti-snapping”, which showed when you agreed with someone. It was more so just a shorthand so people didn’t have to repeat the same comments again. Alex, I believe, was the one who coined the “anti-snap”. It was like snatching the wig away. So you learned things like not everyone’s comments are golden. You don’t need to internalize all the feedback. You just become a very strong person. There was also a joke that if you went through your first Media Arts workshop and didn’t come out crying, you did something wrong. There are certain parts where I’m like “that’s a little much”, but at the end of the day, what rings true is that you’re supposed to care about your work. That’s why [those workshops can be so hard]. I just want everyone in Media Arts out there to know, I know your pain, but it’s worth it. You’re a more knowledgeable person because of it, not just in your art form but you will gain the ability to move through your day with intention. I think you can do that when you’re writing a poem or completing a report about who knows what. You can move through things with intention and purpose and take feedback as you choose.
What was something you struggled with at The Academy?
I definitely have a Media Arts Brain; I definitely read Aristotle’s Poetics as a Freshman, despite being dyslexic and boy oh boy that was the most painful time. What’s funny is that I think I got C’s on all the quizzes, because I just couldn’t internalize it on my own. But all of the tests and exams at the end of the semester, I would ace those. I comprehended the subjects but I couldn’t digest the material. People are learning to give themselves grace and be easier on themselves. It’s especially hard to do that in high school. I think my classmate was known for never giving a positive comment. The teacher [who Marissa had a difficult time with] gave me knowledge I wouldn’t trade for the world. They said to my classmate “Come on. What’s working well and what’s not working well? You have to say both.” Not taking things too personally was a big thing. I couldn’t write fiction to save my life. I could write 15-20 pages and only a paragraph would be any good. I was in the time period where that was acknowledged and that was ok. It was recognizing what your strengths are and not discounting your art form completely. There’s an inherent open-mindedness you end up leaving The Academy with. I think The Academy will show you what that looks like. In a truly artistic safe space, that’s something that will always be there.