How Do You Raise Creative Kids?

Lessons Learned

Creative Kids

How do you raise creative kids? In our highly structured, overly scheduled, and incessantly measured world, the answer to the creative kids question is one that most would rather not hear for it requires a brave leap off the lock-step treadmill upon which we and all of the Joneses ceaselessly, exhaustedly, and occasionally resentfully race each day. The dial of popular thought and status quo sets our pace, and we run and our children run because everyone runs.  We do because they do. We run because they run. We sign up because they all sign up.  Don’t  misunderstand here, though, activity is important, involvement is good, and engagement is meaningful, but we all know if we look honestly at ourselves, that we completely tend toward extremes and a distinct compulsion in the direction of obsession. Too much. Too, too, too much.  Too fast. Too much, too fast to have time to breathe, to enjoy, to think, to savor, to relax, to imagine, to play, to create is unequivocally our collective MO.  To raise creative kids, you need to give them time, margin in their schedules, to creatively play. Just as calisthenics are exercises for the body, so is play the exercise for creativity.  And play that nurtures creativity does not mean TV and movies, hand-held devices and all other screens; play that nurtures creativity means paper plates, sticks, blocks, paper, crayons, brown paper bags, wood, paint, duct tape, sugar cubes, glue, recycled materials, and an endless stream of ordinary items that undoubtedly lead to extraordinary ideas and creations with the added and very illusive ingredient of time.  The sandbox and a hose are brilliant for imaginative adventures. Blankets over chairs and end tables are brilliant for imaginative adventures. Brown paper bags for wreaths, cowboy vests, pirate hats, stuffed with newspaper for large bricks, woven for placemats, and on and on as far as an imagination can travel, these are the quintessential imagination enhancers and play exercisers. How do you raise creative, imaginative, innovative-thinking kids? Let them play. Put away the schedule for a while, and let them play.

The Vulnerability Of Creativity

Lessons Learned

To Dwell In Creativity

A creative spirit frequently lives in a lonely place. Not bad lonely, just slightly misunderstood lonely. To create, one needs to be comfortable with vulnerability, and if not completely comfortable with vulnerability, then at least aware of the weight of this demand. To create, one needs to imagine possibility and unexpected connection and to do this one needs to drop the wall of fear that neatly and typically holds us captive and safe within our prescribed conventions and protocols. Dropping the wall of fear to see beyond it, is terrifyingly and exhilaratingly vulnerable. A willingness to live there is risky, but it is the only place for a creative spirit to feel the freedom necessary to dream and imagine. Creativity flows like a faucet through the imagination of the one who seeks to see a new connection or hear a new combination of sounds, but living in this refreshing flow is inefficient and immeasurable, whereby rendering it inconsistent with the standard rhythm of life which is much more lock-step and non-threateningly predictable. So in choosing to be a creative spirit, one is choosing to be different, and different is vulnerable and can be lonely.  The process of creating is extremely intense and focused, yet at the same time wildly invigorating. In the process of creating, one hears and sees through the heart of imagination in response to an idea or thought and then captures that idea in a new way through any of an infinite variety of creative vehicles. My choice is music, and it has been since I was a child. Unexplainable as it is, other than to say it is a gift, creating music fills my soul and gives voice to the emotion wrapped around an idea, a thought, a situation, or a chapter in a life story. Inspiration for the creative process can occur at most any time and it compels the creative spirit to engage; convenient timing or not is rather inconsequential. From the moment of engagement, out pours the creativity unrestrained.  When at last the creative piece is complete, there is a frozen moment of awe, when for the very first time the one who has dreamed and created views in actuality what previously had existed only in the heart of imagination. Breathtaking. Perfect. Thoroughly and absolutely unique. This precious moment of awe is a very vulnerable place where no judgment or critique is ever welcome and only the gentlest of viewers are allowed.  The creative spirit is strong of heart and faith and optimism, but in this moment of awe, the creative spirit is indeed fragile. If you are ever invited into this moment with a creative spirit, accept it as the true gift it is, offer nothing but your stillness, and allow the awe to bless your heart.

Don't Cut The Arts; The Arts Benefit Children As Nothing Else Can.

Lessons Learned

Infinite Benefit of Arts In Education

“How many are out there waiting for the curtain to open?” hesitantly queried a slightly nerve-stricken first grader.

“Looks like a million, cuz I just peeked,” her not-so-reassuring best friend co-cast member cringed.

“A million or one, it makes no difference as long as you look over their heads and project to the exit sign on the back wall. Just whatever you do, don’t look into their eyes cuz that’s when you forget everything,” sprightly piped in the resident class aspiring Broadway star.

“I feel sick. Really, really sick. Oooooo, my stomach!”  whimpered the friends.

***Pause the story***

This is not an unusual conversation to have or to hear backstage just prior to a performance. The rumbling tightness in a tummy before a show, sometimes called butterflies, sometimes called stage fright, sometimes called the jitters, is just the adrenalin running through the body getting a performer ready to do his or her very best by focusing attention on all that must be remembered. Understanding this and performing through the tummy tightness is very empowering and confidence boosting regardless of the age of the performer. The subsequent uproarious applause is glorious and affirming and is truly a sound everyone needs to hear as a recipient at some point in their lives, for the echoes of applause ripple through one’s memory forever. Thirty years of writing, directing, and accompanying children’s musical plays have given me an excellent glimpse into the power of the performing arts to reach, touch, and transform a child, a cast, an audience, a director. Perfection? That’s never the goal; never even mentioned.  Collaboration, cooperation, full participation, and best efforts all around comprise  the perfectly worthy and always attained expectations.

***Resume the story***

“Deep breath. Think about all of our practices and remember how good you all are together. We’re a team. And we’re fabulous. Your families and friends can’t wait to see all that you all know!”  cheered this teacher.

Just as our rumbling tummy tightness group was focusing on preparing to cast their eyes above the audience heads and in the process forgetting the rumbling, which by the way focusing does, the backstage door burst open and in sprinted a very panicky first grade cast member mother.

“Jane has the chicken pox; the doctor just confirmed it. She’s devastated. And I am so so very sorry. I have to run, she’s in the car,” gasped the mom as she turned and dashed out stage left.

“Send her a hug from us,” we offered to the whoosh that was her mother exiting.

Backstage silence. Ashen-faced cast. Wide-eyed shock. Breathless pause on the brink of tears.  Jane was the lead forest animal and had a solo to sing.

This teacher dared the question, “Who can do Jane’s part?”

Momentary backstage silence filled with dubious anticipation weighed rather heavily on the question, until a soft, unexpected voice in the very back simply said, “I can. I will do my part, and I can do Jane’s, too. I learned everyone’s lines.”  Focus returned. The show went on. Confidence soared. And the chicken pox ran its course.

    

Obsess Not About The Mess, Rather Work With It.

Lessons Learned

From Dirt To Treasure

The cousins would come inside exhausted after hours of adventure-having, fort-building, hike-taking fun in the rolling and seemingly boundless country landscape. Each day, a new brilliant chapter would be written by these cousins with imaginations on fire and love for one another bubbling over. Childhood paradise.  Imaginative adventures encouraged and celebrated.  Country life was wide and free and served as the perfect balm and medicine for the nebulous ills resulting from a typical urban rat-race.  One is well aware that imaginative, adventurous, outdoor playing frequently results in substantial rips and mud and scrapes and the occasional poison ivy itch, but one also soundly recognizes that those meager costs are ever so worth it for the infinite creative and relational blessings gained. Cousins with  dirty hands, covered in the happy grim of nature’s playground, would come bolting inside for a short breath-catching,  tummy-filling rest, sometimes finding the soap and water on the way in, but usually not. All adventurers dashing to the basement for ping-pong and an assortment of ice cream treats in the freezer, left their precious outside handprints in all the cousin sizes down the basement stairway wall. Precious handprints that represented love and fun and being together simply could not be washed clean when the cousins went back home. Absolutely not.   Instead, grandma and grandpa began to trace the handprints and color them in with permanent markers including name and date captions thus forever capturing moments and memories in time. It became known as the handprint hall.  Through the years, cousins continued to trace hands, color hands, and date hands as did their friends, guests and all such other important visiting adventurers. Hundreds of hands.  The handprint hall.  Famous. Perfect.  A gallery of rare, beautiful, ongoing art to which we were all connected, all key contributors, all precious. Amazing how a mud-splotched wall, seen as annoying dirt to some, could be seen as priceless treasured art to someone else.  Beauty truly is in the eye of the beholder.

The Perfection Of Store Bought Creativity

Lessons Learned

Trading In Homemade For Store Bought

With bright, wildly excited eyes, he exuberantly shared with words spilling over words that the long awaited and much anticipated huge science project was to be a creation of the solar system. Artistic, creative, original, unique, any medium, any materials were all descriptors from the teacher concerning this wonderful project. What do you think you’d like to do? I have thought about this all day and all the way home from school, and I think origami planets in different colors of different sizes all connected with pipe cleaners would be perfect. That sounds fantastic! What do you think we need to get for you create this just as you imagine it? With supplies gathered and work space cleared, the imaginer set to creating. Other than peeking in now and again, we, the support team, were to not distract or disturb the imaginer. Colorful origami planets began to fill the space, while pipe cleaner connectors held them in their proper orbits. Evenings filled with brilliant, beautiful creativity flew by punctuated with awe speckled giggles and other sounds of pride.  When at last the stunning, fragile solar system was complete, we were invited to a viewing. Magnificent. Perfect. The imagined solar system had at last become the created one, and  hearts were dancing with joy as they do when creativity is swirling in the midst. Although this humongous creative science project was due on a Friday, several students had decided to bring their projects in Thursday, and what our imaginer saw on Thursday crushed the zeal that had set his spirit soaring through the numerous previous evenings. Most, if not all, of the Thursday solar systems were made from purchased kits with every component perfectly set in place per the specific directions contained in the box, which made them actually, perfect; quite the same but nonetheless perfect.  Friday morning in the parking lot, as other beautiful boxed solar systems streamed by, a very sad thought struck our imaginer. Suddenly, pipe cleaner connectors and origami planets were the tools of losers and others who created without directions in the box. The bright, wildly excited eyes dulled and from the previously jubilating heart came the whispered words, I can’t turn mine in; it’s dumb. My solar system doesn’t look perfect like boxed ones do, and the teacher will think I didn’t work as hard. Gentle, encouraging words from the support team were not quite enough to get us beyond the parking lot crisis occurring in our car, but an intuitive, sensitive, empathetic teacher saved the day, the moment, and a creative heart under siege. This wise and good teacher, upon hearing of the crisis, tenderly pulled the student aside, reminded the student of the excellence of creativity and imaginative work, and affirmed the highest priority and value to be placed upon all of the extra effort involved in creating a unique project, which was, in fact, the assignment.  The imaginer’s smile returned thankfully.  When do we actually trade in our out-of-the-box imaginations for boxed kits complete with perfect directions? Once we make the trade, are we able to go back?

Winter's Peace...

Lessons Learned

Peace

It is winter in the Midwest.  Temperatures during the past week have hovered in the sub-zero range with wind chills dipping near thirty below. The snow is deep and has been swept into impassable drifts along both highways and country roads. The whistling wind sneaks into homes through unseen cracks supremely taxing even the heartiest of furnaces and demanding multiple layers of woolen sweaters and fleecy blankets for all inhabitants. It is winter in the Midwest. Rosy cheeks, piping hot homemade soup, and fireplaces a’blaze are the order of the day, and we smile for each delicate, unique snowflake that lands gently on a tongue.  Although the wintry conditions are certainly extreme and undeniably dangerous, there is a stillness and a peace and a wonder-filled beauty about the snow.  It’s a sparkling, chilly blanket that frosts the landscape like a fluffy dollop of butter cream frosting atop a scrumptious cupcake.  To stand outside in the snow, to walk in it, to traverse it in snowshoes or skis is to understand the stillness of it, which without the experience of it is completely indescribable. The chaos and cacophony of life at its outrageously presto pace, in its constant stereophonic dissonance, with its hyper-stimulation of lights, colors, and images can indeed numb the senses with all of its uber-overdoneness.  How can we be still? How can our children understand peace? How can we learn to quiet our hearts and rest our souls? Beneath a blanket of snow, the earth sleeps for an entire season, animals hibernate, and farmers move indoors and rest their fields.  In the stillness of the winter, the stars in the night sky seem to twinkle with greater intensity, the creaking and humming sounds of the forest are seemingly amplified, and if far enough north, the glory of the northern lights dancing across the heavens in surreal technicolor splendor is beyond breath-taking. In stillness there is infinite room for creativity and imaginative pensivity because those things that crowd and clutter our lives and bring much noise are delightfully absent. When there is stillness or peace around, it feels somehow easier to find a quiet place within. As we warm our hands during the coldness of this winter, may we be reminded to also quiet our hearts, for in the quietness, in the stillness, in the peace there is a longed for and much needed joy, comfort, rest, and restoration.

Looking At Creativity 3...

Lessons Learned…

Creativity Unwrapped 3

With bright, wildly excited eyes, he exuberantly shared with words spilling over words that the long awaited and much anticipated huge science project was to be a creation of the solar system. Artistic, creative, original, unique, any medium, any materials were all descriptors from the teacher concerning this wonderful project. What do you think you’d like to do? I have thought about this all day and all the way home from school, and I think origami planets in different colors of different sizes all connected with pipe cleaners would be perfect. That sounds fantastic! What do you think we need to get for you create this just as you imagine it? With supplies gathered and work space cleared, the imaginer set to creating. Other than peeking in now and again, we, the support team, were to not distract or disturb the imaginer. Colorful origami planets began to fill the space, while pipe cleaner connectors held them in their proper orbits. Evenings filled with brilliant, beautiful creativity flew by punctuated with awe speckled giggles and other sounds of pride.  When at last the stunning, fragile solar system was complete, we were invited to a viewing. Magnificent. Perfect. The imagined solar system had at last become the created one, and  hearts were dancing with joy as they do when creativity is swirling in the midst. Although this humongous creative science project was due on a Friday, several students had decided to bring their projects in Thursday, and what our imaginer saw on Thursday crushed the zeal that had set his spirit soaring through the numerous previous evenings. Most, if not all, of the Thursday solar systems were made from purchased kits with every component perfectly set in place per the specific directions contained in the box, which made them actually, perfect; quite the same but nonetheless perfect.  Friday morning in the parking lot, as other beautiful boxed solar systems streamed by, a very sad thought struck our imaginer. Suddenly, pipe cleaner connectors and origami planets were the tools of losers and others who created without directions in the box. The bright, wildly excited eyes dulled and from the previously jubilating heart came the whispered words, I can’t turn mine in; it’s dumb. My solar system doesn’t look perfect like boxed ones do, and the teacher will think I didn’t work as hard. Gentle, encouraging words from the support team were not quite enough to get us beyond the parking lot crisis occurring in our car, but an intuitive, sensitive, empathetic teacher saved the day, the moment, and a creative heart under siege. This wise and good teacher, upon hearing of the crisis, tenderly pulled the student aside, reminded the student of the excellence of creativity and imaginative work, and affirmed the highest priority and value to be placed upon all of the extra effort involved in creating a unique project, which was, in fact, the assignment.  The imaginer’s smile returned thankfully.  When do we actually trade in our out-of-the-box imaginations for boxed kits complete with perfect directions? Once we make the trade, are we able to go back?

Don't Give Up...

Lessons Learned…

A Crushed Spirit Remembered

You’ve been shaken and your heart is breakin’

Wounded you’ve packed your bags to go;

The decision to forfeit your vision

Isn’t what you want, I know

But where to go?

There’s still room for a dancer

There’s still room for one who’ll dare to dream

In this world of high pressure

It’s the only hope it seems.

Can’t stop trying to fail is not worth dying

What about the child first on his feet?

He falls again until that moment when

He stands then walks then runs to meet

Big arms so sweet.

There’s still room for a dancer

There’s still room for one who’ll dare to dream

In this world of high pressure

It’s the only hope it seems.

by darcy hill

Don't give up.

The "Yes" of Creativity...

Lessons Learned…

Creativity - The Homecoming Dress

It was senior year, and the homecoming dress needed to be just right. We began the search and quickly felt discouraged by the options available. None seemed to capture the unique bittersweet wonder of being at this particular pinnacle of life; not that a dress can magically do that, but somehow it needed to be more special, more unique than what we had seen so far. I could make a dress, suggested my quietly but brilliantly creative mom. From menus to home décor, from costumes to ideas for school projects, from elaborate centerpieces to hair design, mom could absolutely turn straw to gold. Ordinary to extraordinary in the twinkling of an eye. Mom creating a dress for senior homecoming would be perfect! Yes! Soon the perfect dress pattern with adjustments and adornments was decided upon. Perusing piles of fabric, selecting buttons, choosing lace and other necessary bits and bobs was thoroughly exhilarating and completely evoked the dreamed for wonder and delight . It was an extraordinary dress, imagined, designed, and created with great love. In that wildly creative world, we grew up knowing that if in our imaginations we could see it, then without a shadow of a doubt we could create it. There is something very “Yes” in the heart of a truly creative soul, for with them there is always a possibility, a hope, a chance, a belief, an optimism that a dream can come true. Classrooms of little ones need to be “yes” places where the magnificence of imagination can flourish and children are encouraged to dally freely in a wonder-filled world of play. Perhaps all classrooms and homes need a large scoop  of “yes.”

Lessons Learned…

The Universal Language Of Music

Six languages in one first grade classroom.  Swedish. Greek. Japanese. Afganistan. Spanish. English.  Our hope was to teach them all to read.  Our priority was to build a community, to communicate, but the first few days of school made that priority seem quite remote and that hope nearly impossible.  We had no means by which to connect and our only apparent common ground right then was that we shared a classroom, a cold, lonely one at that. After lunch each day, we had a twenty minute window of time during which we played acoustic instrumental music, and the students were encouraged to either look at a picture book, quietly draw a picture, or simply relax and listen to the music. Surprisingly, most students opted to listen to the music. It was calm, soothing, peaceful, and biased toward no one language. Each mind processes music in its own language.  Perhaps music held a key. We wrote a song about counting to ten. We asked each student to count to ten in his or her primary language, which we phonetically wrote down.  We all learned how to count to ten in each of our class languages with great and enthusiastic help from each other. It was a spectacular song, made exponentially better by the robust participation and growing  esprit de corps of our classroom community.  By sharing a little piece of each other’s language, we were able to share a little piece of each other’s heart.  Our community grew. Our trust grew. Our learning grew. We became readers.  We became friends. We shared a song.  

Lessons Learned...

Lessons Learned…

…From a Drama Teacher About Centrifugal Force

I had seen it done countless times. All successfully. I had tried it and done it successfully numerous times myself growing up in the country with all of the neighboring kids and all of the projects and games involving buckets and water. It always worked. And it was something close to magical to see because despite the spinning around and again, not a drop of water ever spilled. It was the perfect five minute science filler that would stir awe and excitement and leave the kids saying, “Wow! That was cool!” From there, it was straight to lunch and recess with big science inspired smiles. It wasn’t a particularly big bucket and it wasn’t overly filled with water, but the entire exhibition was just right for the first grade scientists for whom it was designed. We went outside with the necessary accoutrements, sat in the grass, and prepared to be amazed. After a very brief and simple explanation, I spun the bucket three or four times not spilling a bit to an accompaniment of gleeful ooohs and ahhhs. “Please show us again!” “And again!” Perfect! As we were lining up for lunch, Nathan asked, “May I try it?” Why not? “Sure, Nathan!”  After two successful spins, Nathan’s spinning arm picked up some momentum, rapidly. “Nathan, it would be really good to stop now; you did a great job!” “I can’t!” Faster. Faster. Then, in a move such as one would make to jump in on a double-dutch rope jumping  game, I moved in on Nathan’s spinning arm. It stopped in midair, upside-down, drenching us both, but saving his arm. Silence followed charged with a certain amount of awe, fear, disbelief, and hilarity. One quiet giggle pierced the silence; it was Nathan. “Wow! That was cool!” he erupted.  Uncontainable giggles. Then off to lunch and recess with big science inspired smiles. Perfect.     

Challenging the Treasure...Through Pre-Performance Jitters

Challenging the Treasure…Through Pre-Performance Jitters

“How many are out there waiting for the curtain to open?” hesitantly queried a slightly nerve-stricken first grader.

“Looks like a million, cuz I just peeked,” her not-so-reassuring best friend co-cast member cringed.

“A million or one, it makes no difference as long as you look over their heads and project to the exit sign on the back wall. Just whatever you do, don’t look into their eyes cuz that’s when you forget everything,” sprightly piped in the resident class aspiring Broadway star.

“I feel sick. Really, really sick. Oooooo, my stomach!”  whimpered the friends.

***Pause the story***

This is not an unusual conversation to have or to hear backstage just prior to a performance. The rumbling tightness in a tummy before a show, sometimes called butterflies, sometimes called stage fright, sometimes called the jitters, is just the adrenalin running through the body getting a performer ready to do his or her very best by focusing attention on all that must be remembered. Understanding this and performing through the tummy tightness is very empowering and confidence boosting regardless of the age of the performer. The subsequent uproarious applause is glorious and affirming and is truly a sound everyone needs to hear as a recipient at some point in their lives, for the echoes of applause ripple through one’s memory forever. Thirty years of writing, directing, and accompanying children’s musical plays have given me an excellent glimpse into the power of the performing arts to reach, touch, and transform a child, a cast, an audience, a director. Perfection? That’s never the goal; never even mentioned.  Collaboration, cooperation, full participation, and best efforts all around comprise  the perfectly worthy and always attained expectations.

***Resume the story***

“Deep breath. Think about all of our practices and remember how good you all are together. We’re a team. And we’re fabulous. Your families and friends can’t wait to see all that you all know!”  cheered this teacher.

Just as our rumbling tummy tightness group was focusing on preparing to cast their eyes above the audience heads and in the process forgetting the rumbling, which by the way focusing does, the backstage door burst open and in sprinted a very panicky first grade cast member mother.

“Jane has the chicken pox; the doctor just confirmed it. She’s devastated. And I am so so very sorry. I have to run, she’s in the car,” gasped the mom as she turned and dashed out stage left.

“Send her a hug from us,” we offered to the whoosh that was her mother exiting.

Backstage silence. Ashen-faced cast. Wide-eyed shock. Breathless pause on the brink of tears.  Jane was the lead forest animal and had a solo to sing.

This teacher dared the question, “Who can do Jane’s part?”

Momentary backstage silence filled with dubious anticipation weighed rather heavily on the question, until a soft, unexpected voice in the very back simply said, “I can. I will do my part, and I can do Jane’s, too. I learned everyone’s lines.”  Focus returned. The show went on. Confidence soared. And the chicken pox ran its course.