We recently connected with Jean-philippe Clark and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Jean-Philippe, thanks for joining us today. Let’s kick things off with a hypothetical question – if it were up to you, what would you change about the school or education system to better prepare students for a more fulfilling life and career?

I never imagined myself in a position where I thought I would be eager to go back to school. Eagerness might actually be the antithesis to what I felt about school and the educational system as a whole. Regardless of how very not punk my lack of piercings, leather, and sleeve tattoos may lead you to believe, for a while I held a rather large middle finger to the classroom. Yet, and not without a struggle with my inner rebel, in the fall of 2022 I wrote an email that set me on the course to both enroll back in full time education and be able to be deemed interesting enough to answer questions for publications like this.

It may never be fully understood why I, or many of us, have grown jaded with the system, and I believe we all have reasons that are much more nuanced than proclamations from a cabinetmaker. However, I do know that many of us share that same feeling of being both overwhelmed and underwhelmed by the trajectory that we are implored to undertake. School, in whatever form we experience it, has become a prescription to the inescapable problems that we have been bound to. Problems that we, as students, have not established, but by others who have predestined them to us. Want a good job? Go to school. Want to be successful? Go to college. Want to be an artist? What’s your backup plan at school? And that’s not to mention the cost. There’s a lot to unpack here, though I won’t subjugate us to it all. Again, there is more subtlety to this collective experience.

Whatever your story is in your educational path (and we all have a story), I think the purest essence of what I might change about the system is the idea of content-driven education. Currently, our learning careers are enforced by the basic standards of what we are supposed to learn – math, science, history, etc., and it seems that the focus is on making sure students know the content. Then we are given a score as to how well we know the material, not how well we learned the material. Stay with me, content is not the subject of school – learning is. Content, I think, should be a tool to use as a way to help us learn how to learn. Perhaps this is where we, myself included, lost interest in school.

I don’t claim authority in this particular subject matter. I also don’t know all of our stories and I certainly would never impose myself into them. However, I do have my own experience going through the educational system, and prior to my recent career change I worked adjacent to the system in outdoor education. Before graduating high school (something not all of us decide to do, parents that is ok), school for me was held captive by a home that unfortunately many kids have to live with. Abuse, of any kind, takes away a certain freedom that would allow us to better navigate our world. While in class I tried to keep it together long enough to make it, fake it, both, or burn it all to the ground. More people than we realize can relate. And although it was six hours where I didn’t have to hide at home, school was a place of expectations, recitations, examinations, and frustrations. Instead of asking for help, I tried to mask my emotions and not stand out. Then came college. I did decide to go because I thought I had no other option (perhaps another shift we can make in our reckoning). This is just what you do.

Talk about a change in the education system. We are encouraged to get a degree, to find ourselves, to have new experiences, all laden with judgment about the choices we make, right or wrong. I felt it. Whether or not there was actual adjudication, it was perceived. I chose a degree. Then another one. Then regretted it. Then hated going to class. Then wanted to change to something else but was already too far in to change now so what am I even doing here. I worked full time at a restaurant, went to school, and tried to find things that I enjoyed doing. My degree was in outdoor education and being outside was something that I could rest my hat on. I leaned in.

From Spring of 2009 when I changed my degree until August of 2023 when I quit my job, my career was in taking young people outside. For a very brief moment I thought about going to grad school for education, but ultimately decided that sounded dumb both financially and mentally. There were times when I loved the adventure. It was in the moments where kids had that experience that clicked for them. They were out of a classroom, faced with the reality of simply living and learning about themselves. After a dance with the struggle bus, typically they would blossom. It was a very real and visceral reaction which has now helped shape my own thoughts on the education system. I have had students that have never been outside, never been asked what they actually enjoy, never been taught how to enjoy learning, have had the worst possible family situations, and developed friendships that are stronger than family. There are stories of stories within my near 15 years in the field that could help answer this particular question. A question that I now feel as if I’m butchering it. But that I suppose is all part of it.

Also during that time there were those realizations where my toes were so cold that I thought about putting them actually in the fire. My mental health struggled, almost to the point of irrevocable. I ebbed and flowed through a consciousness of ‘shoulds’, dysmorphia, burn out, and perceived self worth. Looking back, during those times I was not eager to learn more. Even with how unhappy I was, I was invested in being stuck. Cats were not in danger of this curiosity.

What changed? Why did I move my family across the Pacific to enroll in a trade school? What’s the point? I started to love learning. It was little moments – up on a mountain with only hand powered tools to build a bridge, curiosity about the tools, curiosity about the techniques, curiosity about my own relationship with my two hands. I allowed myself to have curiosity, to engage in my learning process, and to find what worked for me. Books, videos, podcasts, tidbits of online forums (a rabbit hole I avoid mostly), I sought out information. Not just sought, pined for. I am, to this day, unsatiated by learning. A magical misty moment deep in a forest, up on a mountain sparked something in me that will never go away. From there I developed a hobby turned obsession with everything that I began to learn. It boiled over a few years ago to the point where I didn’t just want to go back to school, but I HAD to. So in 2023 we put everything on hold – my spouse, daughter, and me – and moved to Scotland. Everyday for a year I got to go to school (opposed to had to). Somehow I fell in love.

Now I am broke, happy, and content. I do have a fulfilling life and career, and I am eager to learn every day. School, for me, became about wanting to learn and the desire to be a part of the community. I’m just lucky I found something that I wanted to learn about in the process.

As always, we appreciate you sharing your insights and we’ve got a few more questions for you, but before we get to all of that can you take a minute to introduce yourself and give our readers some of your back background and context?

My name is Jean-Philippe Clark and I am a furniture maker, designer, and restorer based in Flagstaff, Arizona. My journey into furniture making (or I should say this phase of the craft considering I built birdhouses and a potpourri of 4x2s nailed together in a shape I dubbed ‘Théoden’s Throne’ during a middle school shop class) began on the side of a mountain. I worked in both outdoor education and conservation prior to my career change. During my first ever project in conservation – think trail building, forest restoration, fire ecology, etc.- my crew and I were tasked with building a bridge over a river in a wilderness area. Wielding only hand tools, we felled a tree, shaped it, built a rock abutment, and constructed a simple bridge. We worked with only the materials that were available to us to create something that would benefit everyone.

Consider the bug caught. I learned what I could about humans working with their hands. I fell in love with that co-evolution of people making magnificent things and the tools they used to do it. As my interests refined, furniture making and fine woodworking became the chief motive. I read books, watched instructional videos, and practiced – with just hand tools in my tiny garage. And then practiced some more. Eventually I felt confident enough to make the crib for my soon to be daughter. The love I felt in building this piece solidified what I needed to do. Woodworking became less of a hobby and more of an obsession. Three years later, she, my spouse, and I had the opportunity to move to Scotland for a year to chase the dream.

I graduated from Chippendale International School of Furniture last summer after completing both the requisite school projects which earned me my qualifications and two projects that I designed and brought to life. During our final week of the course, the school puts together an exhibition to display the pieces made during the course and provide an opportunity for the public to purchase our work. My two pieces included a modern take on the traditional settle in the Arts and Crafts style as well as a cabinet on stand that, when opened, has a view into my past life. I wasn’t sure if my pieces would sell and I was resigned to gifting them to my tutor should that be the case (flying back to Arizona with 1300mm tall pieces was not about to happen). However, within 15 minutes of the show opening, the settle was sold. An hour later the cabinet sold to the same family after they went home and realized they wanted the set. There is no better feeling than someone enjoying the work that I do. I know that I do what I do because it fills some need to make that I have. However, what I make is for everyone else and nothing gives me more joy than that opportunity. After selling my first pieces, I now call myself a furniture maker.

I flew back to the States with the crisp and coveted ‘Student of the Year’ award tucked into my book on furniture design. Prior to making the trip overseas I had begun setting up the foundations of a business so that when this moment came, the wheels of the plane touching ground, I could press go and start making for a living. Part of that process included obtaining a contractors license as a way to diversify the work I am able to do. Every state is different when it comes to the rules and regulations on who can work in a house, but in Arizona if you want to affix anything to a structure on projects more than $1000, you need some sort of license. Furniture can be both freestanding and fitted so I made the decision to navigate the system.

I’m now closing in on a year into business and I’m so grateful for the path that I’ve taken to get here. School was one of the best things that I could have done for my success, as was getting my license, practicing long hours in my shop, and having a keen eye for a good spreadsheet. I feel proud of the fact that I am busy and I love going to my shop every day. Already I have worked on freestanding furniture, fitted furniture, and furniture restorations. Each piece is custom, bespoke, and made by just two hands. I consider myself part of the revolution against fast and failing furniture. I want homes to be filled with items that won’t end up in a dumpster and can be generational should you treat them right. Working with me, or other local furniture makers like me, is a sustainable way to invest in your own space. I feel both honored and proud to bring a touch of art into our world and give someone a place to rest, we all deserve it.

Learning and unlearning are both critical parts of growth – can you share a story of a time when you had to unlearn a lesson?

I love this question. I think, for a lot of us starting our own businesses for the first time, there is a certain fear associated with the leap. I’ve been employed since I was 13, and I made the decision to start up on my own at 33. For 20 years I have always had a job, a source of income, something predictable and reliable. I also had a mortgage, a toddler, and two capricious dogs that exhibit the chaotic random ailment. AND the world is still in economic recovery after the pandemic. I’m not the stereotypical bread winner, but I have been the stable bankroller to our life for years and the thought of letting that go was anxiety inducing. Even with a business plan and a supportive partner, I would wake up at 1am questioning my existence. What’s the backup plan? How can I pay that bill? Can my kid eat?

Of course we will figure it out. That’s what the option is. And we hustle. Regardless, brain and heart were on two different planets when it came to the future of our lives. Well off we went. While I still had a salary I worked on setting up the business. Then I quit my job (I did give them a whole half a year notice), we took our savings, and flew to another country just to hemorrhage cash on a car that broke down within weeks, unforeseen council taxes, libations, and school. A year later we came back to start the life we had been setting up for. I was going to do it.

So naturally I started looking for employment. I even had interviews set up and my CV ready to go. Why? Fear. It isn’t something that has gone away, but it has receded. I actually think a healthy respect for what could happen will help my business grow if that makes some sense? However, when my wife found out my intentions she was rightfully miffed. “How could you do that to yourself? You owe it to yourself to try. We will be fine for a while. Give it your all.” It was a conversation that had happened more often than not from the time our plane left Phoenix. Every time ended with a stout reprimand from her and a reignited flame from me.

To all the business owners, soon to be owners, or folks contemplating the plunge if you will – you’ve got this. Even if it doesn’t work out the way you had imagined, you owe it to yourself to try. That is the lesson I had to learn. And relearn. And relearn again. It is hard. It is scary. But we are worth it.

What’s worked well for you in terms of a source for new clients?

Word of mouth, hands down. It truly has been the best source (so far) for new clients. I live in a small town. A town where I was born, grew up in, and made a life for myself. People now know me from my past but are relearning who I am as a furniture maker. As I work for friends of friends, I’m getting more and more phone calls from people who ‘know this person who knows you’.

For me it is a wonderful feeling. I would like to have the resources for more marketing, but as I start up, I am making sure the little cash I have to work with addresses my priorities list. To have a community of people spreading your good work is inspiring and it makes me want to do right by them even more and allows me to grow in a sustainable way.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.jclarkfurniture.com/
• Instagram: @jclarkfurniture

Image Credits

Self, Anna Patxot, Nichole Sanchez