Larry Walker, 1935, Georgia.
Fragment of interview Kara Walker with Father Larry Walker, Bomb Magazine, May 2014.
I started in Fine Arts. After a period of time, I guess I was about twenty, I remember having a discussion with myself and questioning: Okay, guy what are you going to do when you graduate? Now that you know a little bit about this and a little bit about that, how are you gonna use it? I sat by myself, kind of like Little Jack Horner sitting in a corner. No parent around to tell me what to do about this. I didn’t talk to a counselor. I didn’t seek help about this. It was on me to figure it out.
Flight, 2013.
I decided that whatever I did had to allow me to do what I wanted to do with my artwork. Whatever I did had to allow me to do something with people. I started going through a list of the art positions, things that I knew a little bit about. As I went down the list, what disappeared first were things like architecture, graphic design, and interior design—not because they were not viable and honorable positions, but because they involved having clients who would have specific needs or personal requirements. In such circumstances you owed it to the clients to produce something viable to meet their expectations. I decided that I wanted to do what I wanted to do without external expectations or pressures.
Good Deeds, Wall Spirits, 2013.
As I went further down the list, it got smaller and smaller. By the time I finished the list the only thing left on it was teaching. I thought about that for quite a while and concluded, Teaching, hmm. I can do what I want to do with my art and I could work with people. So I went to the Department Chair and I said, “I want to change my major from Fine Arts to Art Education.” He talked to me for quite a while, desperately trying to convince me not to do that. After realizing that I was really serious, he said, “Okay, if you must do this, I will go ahead and initiate the paperwork for you, but promise me one thing.” I said, “Sure. What’s that?” “Promise me you won’t let them fill you with too much methodology.” I said, “Not a problem at all. I can do what I want in the summers. I will have this kind of freedom and that.” He just smiled, because I think he realized that I clearly didn’t have any idea what methodology meant. (laughter)
Elegy for Michael: Passage Through theValley, 2010.
He filled out the paperwork and I shifted over into the Art Education Department and got a whole new introduction to art and to children and the kind of expectations one could have from their work and of things you could bring to them as an art person. I bought into that whole-heartedly. It went well. I graduated and wound up with a teaching position at Pattengill Elementary School in Detroit. A couple years later, when I went back to school for my master’s degree at Wayne State University, I came to realize that the closer I got to completing the master’s degree, the further removed I felt from the elementary kids. I figured I needed another level so I applied for high school and colleges. I shifted into a high school, and that was okay, but within a year, a college opportunity showed up at the University of the Pacific (UOP) in Stockton, California. My wife Gwen and I packed up Dana, Larry Jr., and all we could manage and drove across country to California in 1964—for what was initially set up to be a one-to-two year temporary replacement for a faculty member on sabbatical leave…. As it turned out, our lives were wonderfully changed and enriched. We were at the University for nineteen successful years and increased the family in 1969 when you (Kara) joined us.
