Gender Bias: Women in Art and Teaching

My journey in navigating systemic bias while teaching continuous line urban sketching

Twice a year I hunker down and dedicate significant time to improving the SEO for my Art Leap Adventures traveling art workshop website. I specialize in teaching continuous line urban sketching—a niche I’ve been devoted to since 2020, when my continuous line drawing practice helped me navigate the early pandemic days. Soon after, I incorporated this method into my urban sketching curriculum and my Continuous Line Drawing Zoom classes.

I’ve been living and breathing continuous line drawing ever since. It’s not just my niche; it’s my calling. Yet, when I Google “continuous line drawing,” my name is nowhere to be found. My website ranks on the second page, which I am grateful, but Meagan Burns, the artist behind it all? Nada.

This lack of visibility makes me wonder: am I truly in the wild, wild west of this art form? Have I somehow been overlooked as part of the greater community of people who draw, teach, and travel? I’ve taught this method twice a week for years, hosted international workshops, and built a curriculum designed to empower and inspire artists. It is my hashtag on every single piece of content I share—it’s literally my specialty—and yet, I don’t appear in the ranks or on anyone’s lists.

I applied to teach for the Urban Sketchers organization, believing my workshops would align naturally with their mission. The process forced me to refine my curriculum and articulate my teaching philosophy, which was valuable. But in the end, I was told I wasn’t qualified. What now?

Build it and they will come. Maybe. Not sure. Let’s give it a whirl.

Somewhere along this journey, I’ve noticed another kind of line: the invisible line separating women artists from the recognition they deserve.

Despite my dedication, experience, and countless hours spent honing my craft that will continue til the day I die, it’s a line that seems to hold me back in ways that feel both invisible and undeniable.

Go With The Flow

Continuous line drawing is a practice that values imperfection, courage, and flow. A single line creates a whole image, and much of my career has been shaped by persistence and creativity. Yet, even within this niche, I am unrecognized within the art workshop community. 

I remember once hearing that for every top-banana “celebrity” male instructor, there’s a woman behind him lugging all the camera equipment. Joke or not, this is a reality in almost every industry. Look at recent American elections—an extremely qualified woman lost to someone wholly unqualified. This isn’t new, but it’s still frustrating. And with fascism lurking around the corner, I can’t imagine this becoming an easier hill to climb.

Let’s Get Real

Ultimately, I love what I do and I love sharing the message of continuous line drawing. Not just as an art form but as a meditation—a way to center myself and others in uncertain times. That said, I realize not everyone is going to like me, my message, or my delivery.

I also understand that artists and instructors are lifetimes in the making; one does not simply saunter into teaching drawing and expect to be accepted. There is a hierarchy and a place in the industry must be earned. I get it and will continue to do the work to carve out my place in the world.

Would It Be Different If I Were a Man?

This question lingers because, honestly, I don’t think I’d be this invisible if I were a man. The art world, like so many industries, still struggles with systemic gender bias. Women artists often face challenges in gaining recognition, fair representation, and professional opportunities. This isn’t new—it’s a pattern deeply embedded in history.

Social media can give us more visibility, but they often reflect the same biases. Men tend to claim authority without hesitation, while we are conditioned to undersell ourselves, focusing instead on collaboration and humility. It’s not that we’re less talented or less driven—it’s that the system wasn’t built to spotlight us.

Flipping the Script

Rather than internalizing this invisibility, I’m choosing to see it as an opportunity to explore the conversation—not just for myself, but for other women artists. This isn’t about being louder, more aggressive or bashing men; it’s about overcoming the fears that hold me back from asserting my expertise, being proud of the work I do, and confidently claiming the space I am earning.

This means owning my expertise unapologetically. I’ve been teaching continuous line drawing since 2020, and I’ve built a thriving online and in-person community. It also means continuing to build community, telling stories, and sharing the power of this practice with as many people as I can.

Stay Focused

To the women artists reading this: your work matters, even if the world doesn’t always acknowledge it. Keep creating and keep showing up.

The road ahead looks bumpy, and I personally may need to adapt to new ways of teaching and evolving, which I’m prepared to do. But I also want to keep my eyes wide open as we move into a new, possibly dark era that could have long-lasting repercussions for women and minorities.

I’d love to hear your thoughts on this topic. Have you experienced or witnessed similar challenges in your field? 

Go Easy On Yourself, Go Easy On Others,
Meagan Burns