Reimagining Resilience: A Journey Through Art, Instructional Design, and the Heart of Learning

By Alexanderia Easterling

There’s a quiet power in starting over.

Last year, after a life-changing car accident, I found myself at a crossroads. I lost 50 years of my life. I had the choice to be sad and depressed or use the experience to rebuild—more intentionally, more creatively, and more compassionately. With the support of my husband of 28 years—my unwavering partner in every endeavor—I chose to reimagine everything.

My journey began as an artist, shaped by my Fine Arts and Graphic Design studies at Athens State University. I’ve illustrated published books, designed educational tools, and built a mobile art studio that now serves over 120 students a year. But my work has never been just about art—it’s about expression, connection, and designing environments where everyone can thrive.

One of the greatest joys of my life is being a mother. My husband and I adopted our son from Elbasan, Albania, when he was two. He’s about to turn 21 now, and I see in him the same resilience that shaped our family. His growth reminds me daily of the power of patience, belief, and love.

In my professional world, that same ethos carries into the way I design learning experiences. I believe in instructional design that’s intentional, imaginative, and inclusive. Whether I’m building a “choose your own adventure” PD session using AI tools, exploring accessibility through the SECTIONS model, or supporting nonverbal students through LAMP (Language Acquisition through Motor Planning®), I’m driven by a single truth: learning should meet people where they are—and help them grow from there.

Instructional design is not just about frameworks and technology. It’s about people. It’s about designing with empathy, equity, and creativity. And often, it’s about listening—really listening—to what learners need in order to feel seen, supported, and inspired.

So much of what I design today is a reflection of what I’ve lived. It’s why I lean into frameworks that emphasize accessibility. It’s why I celebrate emerging technologies but use them with intention. It’s why I believe a painting lesson can be as powerful as a lesson on AI, because both can open new doors in the right hands.

Rebuilding my life after the accident wasn’t easy. But it gave me a new lens. It taught me that true learning—like art—is messy, nonlinear, and incredibly beautiful.

And that we never stop becoming.