I Crossed My Fingers and Hoped for No Crying

I’ve been having my Kindergarten artists work in a sketchbook before they tackle the blank page of their final piece. I want them to get used to the artist practice of sketching without fretting, and without erasing. I want them to have the freedom to try all sorts of things without the concern that sometimes comes when they are creating their final piece.

They’ve been doing so much good work. They are filling the pages of their sketchbooks with a plethora of fantabulous experiments. Their faces beam as they show me their work, tell me if they love it or have more to add, and give me virtual high fives (which become high one hundreds) through the classroom D10.

This week I decided to try something new. No sketching. No exploration. No pencils. Just a sharpie, our big beautiful brains, awesome hearts, courage, and creativity! At least two colleagues chuckled and said “You are a brave woman!” I responded, “Nah! They can do it. I know they can. I’m going to tell them that!” I paused, and laughed, and then added, “And then, I’m going to cross my fingers, and hope for no crying!”

When art rolled around last week, I did just that. I started sharing that I have a sketchpad and often do sketches before I paint. But, other times I just use watercolor or pen and ink directly in my journal. As I spoke, I shared some pages from my hiking art journal. “That’s what we’re going to try today – no sketching, just being free and working directly onto our watercolor paper.” No one said a word, and since I’m on the D10 I can’t always read their facial expressions. I kept going forward. “You can do it. You’re amazing artists with big beautiful brains, awesome hearts, and lots of courage and creativity. … Are you ready?” Shouts of “Yes!” were music to my ears. With a huge smile on my face I said. “Awesome. Let’s get started.”

I led them through a few steps to create the shape of the face — complete with the asymmetry, unusual scale, and a crown we noticed in Sandra Silberzweig’s original piece. I encouraged them to follow along, but to also make decisions as the artist of their piece. Once we had finished the outline, I set them free to add details. I suggested they take time to look, and think as they drew.

The learning space was quiet as they created. I worked, and waited, with all my fingers crossed.

I am overjoyed to report that there was no crying! There was only excitement, enthusiasm, joy, and awesome art making.

Look! (There’s more, but I figured I’d just share a few.)

These young artists aren’t artists because I think they are. They’re artists because THEY think they are. They’re artists because they’re noticing, thinking, wondering, trying, making decisions, and creating their own art. They’ve embraced themselves as competent artists, and creative thinkers who can have ideas, think creatively, take risks, solve problems, and make great art. They are artists, they know it, and they’re loving it! So am I.

That confidence, and ability to think, and take a risk– without tears — doesn’t just show itself during art. It pops up often, and each time it’s a joy to experience. Most recently it was wonderfully evident in a homework assignment I gave them to record a video on flipgird,.

If you’re a teacher and you’ve never tried flipgrid, give it a go. It’s a great platform for you and your students to share ideas, comment on the ideas of others, be inspired, and help one another problem solve. When they record, my students practice oral literacy skills in a friendly pressure free arena. I smile each time I decide to redo my video and get the “You got this! Try again” message. A bonus is that flipgrid provides us with playful opportunities to add boarders, stickers, writing, and other fun ephemera to our videos and screenshots.

Pre-covid we did a lot of block building. When we build with blocks we play and learn. We think creatively, critically, and spatially — and we grow in our ability to do so. The somewhat transient nature of block building allows for lots of ideas, quick iterations, struggling, failing, succeeding, problem solving, learning, and sharing — all while having fun.

When Covid hit I looked for ways to to engage and grow my students imagination, creativity, courage, spatial muscles, grit and resilience through building. I wanted a building option that was compact, portable, open ended, and relatively inexpensive. I finally decided on Plus-plus blocks.

Now that I’m back — but remote — my challenge was how to share all of the greatness of our time together in the Kindergarten Makerspace making all sorts of cool block builds when we weren’t in the same physical space. I decided to give flipgrid a try.

I created a flipgrid homework assignment. I encouraged my students to play with their blocks, create things, and then record a video showing what they made, what they learned, and what they still haven’t figured out. I posted my own video in response to the assignment sharing some of my struggles and asking for their help.

Flipgrid Plusplus Blocks Assignment

The things they made were fantabulous.

Here are a few:
A baking bird – brown and white for brown and white sugar.
A statue – which when you add the baking bird to the statue now has moveable arms.
Two cars and a garage.
A rainbow bridge, a sidewalk, and a bracelet.
Saturn, Jupiter, the sun, and Momo and his magic wand.
An adjustable ring, a flag, a plane that transforms into an eagle.
A cookie and apple who become friends.
Flower and all the characters needed for the story of her escape.
A girl named Anastasia

But, what really struck me was the builders themselves. I saw those same awesome artists simply working in a different medium. They shared their ideas bravely. They offered suggestions. They asked and answered questions. They explained their thinking. And, they interacted with their blocks in ways I never imagined — crafting stories and making connections.

One of them said this: “I love these blocks. You can make anything you want with these. You can just get creative and make whatever you want, and make your own dreamland.These blocks are just wonderful.” She had a beautiful, satisfied smile on her face she talked and shared her creation.

As I watched the videos — leaning in to see things more closely, chuckling at their stories, overwhelmed by their awesomeness — I was reminded of an idea of Loris Malaguzzi – Children are strong, rich in potential, powerful, and capable.

Yes, yes! Strong, rich, powerful, and capable. It’s important that we know and believe this truth about children. And, it’s essential that we reflect this belief to them. Our best selves, and our greatest sharing and learning, happens within relationships of respect, awe, and love.

They are artists. Yes. They are builders. Yes. They are awesome and fantabulous. Absolutely. But mostly they are themselves, and they are strong, rich, powerful, and totally capable. I’m so grateful I get to know them, teach them, and learn from them.

Brave One

My Kindergarten artists’ journals are finished and fantabulous. One, however, tugged on my heart and begged to be shared.

I love the art. But what took my breath away were her words:

Brave
(her name)
Love

Once my breath returned, I texted a friend the photo and this message ” Oh my gosh! My day is made. My work is done. My heart is full.”

Of course, my work continues, but wow, for today it is done. This young one knows and loves herself as brave. Simply fantabulous.

Look, Wonder, and Ponder Possibilities

This week my Kindergarten inspirational artist was Ashley Bryan. What a remarkably talented artist. He’s a painter, a storyteller, a writer, and a collage artist — to name just a few of his artistic pursuits. Any one of those might lend itself to an art project. But, which one would work for my students, with the supplies they have, in the time we have? And, which one could I successfully model for them remotely?

I spent days researching Ashley. I studied his art, listened to him speak, and read articles about him. And then I did it all again. I was quite struck by two things he said:

I make flowers of all my mistakes.

and

In Kindergarten we made our first books … little one of a kind, limited editions. Bringing them home was the greatest reward.

That was the my first aha, We could be inspired by Ashley’s flowers, and his recollection — in his 90’s — of the joy he had at creating his own books in Kindergarten. My artists’ finished flower art pieces would become the covers for their own one of a kind, limited edition journals.

When I shared that with my artists, one asked “But what are we going to put in it.” I shrugged my shoulders and said “I’m not sure. It’s your journal. You’re the artist. What are you going to put it in?” She persisted, “But what can we put in it?” I persisted, too. “You’re the artist, you can put whatever you want in it.” Murmurs filled the room and wafted towards me across our remote connection. I smiled as I watched them begin to plan what would fill their journals.

But, I get ahead of myself.

I had the flower journal idea, but I wasn’t sure how I could help my artists emulate the loose style I perceived in Ashley’s flowers. Back I went to examining his work and words. I contemplated lots of possibilities, but each one felt less than exciting, and didn’t quite measure up to what I was hoping to achieve.

Then I saw Ashley’s lithograph and stained glass window work. That was it! Both of those included black lines and shapes. This would allow my artists to use their black markers to create the loose flowers. They could then use watercolor paint to add the color. I chose to focus on the stained glass creations because they included the color found in Ashley’s paintings.

The process and product of my Kindergarten artists was joy-filled, courageous, and filled with sharing of ideas. As an educator, I was super satisfied. As an artist, my creative thinking, and artist work continued.

I always make a demo piece, and then work on my own art as my Kindergarten artists work on theirs. This was my demo piece.

I liked it. But as I looked at it, I wondered what else I might do to it? How might I take it further? Was there something I might do to take it beyond a Kindergarten project? And of course, the ever present question “What if I mess it up?” It always makes me laugh out loud when I hear myself wonder that. It keeps me humble, and reminds me how brave my K artists are each time they take up their tools and get to work.

I got my white paint pen and began adding marks. I thought the detail would be what I needed to add some sort of pop. I was wrong. I got more pens and added more colors and marks. It got better, but then it seemed to have lost its original connection to Ashley Bryan as the flowers and black lines became less pronounced. Much like when I prepared to teach my lesson, I took a break. Each time I passed my art, I gave it a look — many looks, from many different angles. I contemplated many what ifs, and, maybes.

Finally a possibility made enough sense so as to become a plan. I decided to paint all the negative space with titanium white.

I am totally digging the result of my creative thinking, and artistic doing.

i created a second piece so I could paint with my artists during our second class. I was inspired by their drawings — some had intense amounts of detail, others had butterflies, birds, and lady bugs. The plethora of flowers and nature set off the white of the framed word in a great way. I loved it as a black and white piece.

Then I added paint with with Kindergarten artists.

It’s nice, and it was admired by all, but I’m not loving it. Perhaps it’s the starkness of the word frame compared to the color. Perhaps the color has muddied the detail of the background. I’m not exactly sure.

For now I look, wonder, and ponder possibilities. But soon, I paint.