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When I was in sixth grade, they slashed the budgets for all of our school art programs, so my grandparents enrolled me in art classes at Worcester Art Museum, which I attended from sixth to 12th grade.

I had my share of rejections.

People were being so mean as a result of my ability - a gift, really. So I think that's what makes me fight harder to provide an option to aspiring kids or artists. I wouldn't want anyone to go through what I went through... to see a little girl or a little dancer experience such unnecessary rejection.

I was a naughty kid. Teachers did not like me much.

I took all of my rejection letters - there must have been thousands of them in a huge box - and I went out on the curb and burned them all, crying.

I went to a Catholic high school and it seemed like every time I drew something for a class project, it either got thrown away by the teacher or something.

When I was in fifth grade, a boy put a rose on my desk and I threw it away. The attention makes me nervous.

I was told that I had to give grades to the students, which I wasn't particularly interested in doing.

Teachers didn't like me very much. They thought I was just this punk kid and they always wanted to kick me out.

In my early career I was like a goldfish. Rejection didn't affect me; I'd just forget how bad it was and keep going back for more.