My Kinders’ art, love, and affirmations are powerful.
This was given to me months ago. I misplaced it a few days later, and with very pleasant surprise, found it today.
It never ceases to amaze me how much power is in a child’s affirmation!
It touched me when I received it and when I look at it now. I’m nearly 62 years old, and still, the words of a 6 year old have the power to touch my heart and mind, and remind me of a truth about myself. I am beautiful. Perhaps part of my beauty is that I can set aside my own angst and perfectionism and learn from a 6 year old.
Maybe you too need to be reminded about the truth of who you are. My Kinders’ would gladly bless you with their love and affirmations. Feel free to substitute your name for mine.
I have two tall white cabinets in my learning space. I use the white fronts for many things. Sometimes, things get stale. Yes, stale, just like dry, old bread. They lose their appeal. To be brutal, they are ready to be thrown away. Now, if they are student work, I don’t throw them away. But for emphasis sake, I use that phrase.
I recently removed some of that stale work from those cabinets. Naked — as my learners would say — their stark white color stood out, urging me to repurpose them for something beautiful and created by the children. For a few days, I let their urging ferment in my brain.
This week I decided to end the year as we began it: with real-life writing. On one cabinet, I wrote: We are … On the other I wrote: We can … I cut 6-inch square pieces of construction paper and left them out for our Investigate and Explore Time with the provocation to cover our naked cabinets with positive things that are true for us. The Kindergarten writers were into it, and quickly filled the covered the bare cabinets with beautiful affirmations of themselves.
The process was great. I enjoyed watching from afar — drawing near only to help when it was requested and necessary. Otherwise, I allowed the Kindergarteners to complete it on their own. Each day I noticed a new entry which filled my heart with joy. Then I saw this one.
Wow! Even though they have things to learn and ways to grow, and times when they are sad or mad and aren’t their best selves, they can still say “We are absolutely perfect.” I love that. I want them to know they are absolutely perfect. This will give the courage to learn, be, and change the world.
One student had not yet added her affirmations to her abstract art handprint piece. I asked her to finish it, and without hesitation, she sat down in front of the We are cabinet and began writing. Outstanding!
The cabinets adorned with the kindergartners’ thoughts, writing, and doodles add beauty to our room, serve as writing idea resources, and provide positive reminders. Well done, kindergartners!
We had our Field Day at my school yesterday. It was fantabulous and tiring! Thankfully it’s a half day for students. This allows faculty to do some of the many things on our plates.
After my students left, I took a moment to contemplate my next steps. Despite having a lot to do, I decided that it would be most beneficial for me to take a walk uptown, grab a bite to eat, and give myself the opportunity to find peace and refreshment.
As I walked, my joints and muscles ached a bit, and for a moment, I wondered if I chose well. I took a breath, reminded myself of the advantages of pausing and taking care of myself, and walked on.
Arriving at the restaurant I talked and laughed with the server, ordered, and went outside to find a pleasant place to sit. The table in front of the waterfall installation was free. I opened the umbrella by my table, sat down, kicked off my shoes, and began to breathe and relax. I chuckled at the small birds, enjoyed the cool breeze, took many deep breaths, and allowed my mind to find joy.
Before leaving school, I packed my haiku notebook and a pencil I enjoy using in my bag, knowing I don’t always enjoy eating alone at a restaurant. After sitting for some time, I felt the pull to write. I appreciate the structure of haiku. Its format encourages me to find new ways of saying things and allows me to write in short bursts.
Little Bird The bird drinks water escaping the waterfall Then tweets hungrily
Gladness In city center I pause by the waterfall Manmade and lovely.
It’s amazing how difficult it can be to write sometimes. It’s been feeling super tough to write as the summer comes to an end and the school year starts up again. I was shocked when I looked at my blog and realized I haven’t posted in over a month!
It’s not that I don’t have anything to say, instead, I often have too much to say. With so many thoughts swirling in my brain and competing to get to my fingers as I write or type, I end up getting a bit discombobulated. I wonder how to fit everything together. My brain becomes a bird distracted by all the shiny things around me and I end up running off after a new idea. I lose the train of thought that brought me to writing.
This morning I had an epiphany. Perhaps I’m not giving myself the opportunity to say what I have to say. I haven’t developed a practice that allows me to get my thoughts out of my brain and onto the page with any regularity. It reminds me of the feeling I have when I see a friend I haven’t seen in ages and I seem to lose the ability to finish sentences. Instead I speak in fragments as my thoughts trip over each other in their rush to leave my brain and be birthed into our time together.
I need to write more often. Might it be possible for me to establish a practice of daily reflection?
I feel myself begin to break into a sweat. How will I put one more thing into my day? Eeee GADS! Now you want to be a writer and write EVERY DAY!?!?!?!
Yes, I am having a moment of panic.
But, taking a deep breath, I remind myself I AM a writer. I have things to say. I have things I want and need to say. Not every writing needs to be profound. It just needs to capture whatever has captured me in that day or moment.
I like that. I like the connection to joy and beauty and awe. I think this practice will bear fruit in many ways in my life.
Now to let it happen.
And, in the spirit of having a plethora of ideas. I’m wondering where might I carve time out of our K day for me and my Kindergartners to take a moment and just write — as fellow writers!
As I finished putting her together, I thought, “She looks pretty good, not perfect, but pretty good.” Since my inner critic was in a talkative mood, I engaged. “True, but is perfection the goal?” I wasn’t being sassy. I was genuinely inquiring. We were both quiet for a bit.
Then I noticed the words “think of all the beauty.” I didn’t specifically pick them to be part of this piece. They fell out of my box as I was choosing other things. But, I noticed them. And, I let them speak to me. Once they spoke, I knew they were the answer, and I knew I had to figure out a way to include them in this piece.
That’s the goal. Think of all the beauty — in art, in life, in ourselves and others. Think of all the beauty.
Learn, be, create, enjoy, and think of all the beauty. Notice it. Acknowledge it. Accept it. Celebrate it. And, preach it.
So, my art and I sit here and preach on. Think of all the beauty.
What an interesting question. At first my response was, “I really don’t know. I just write.”
But, on further introspection, nothing could be further from the truth. I don’t ever, or rarely, just write. I always write to understand, to teach, or to create the perfect moment. Often I do it to create a space of positivity, affirmation, encouragement, and hope, that can be returned to as often as needed.
Sometimes I do it for me. Sometimes I do it for others. But it’s always the same. It starts with an idea, or a need, and it moves forward through many iterations. It’s a lot like my art making. I do it for the fun of the experience, the process, the flow, and the product.
I write and create art to tell stories — for myself and others.
More and more I am discovering and experiencing the power of stories. I want to fill the world, or at least my little part of it, with stories of goodness, truth, beauty, courage, and kindness.
That is who I am as a writer, artist, creative. Heck that is who I am as a human being. Or at least, it is who I strive to be.
Here is a shot of the latest story I am telling myself, and anyone who needs to hear it.
There is joy and possibility even in the wonkiness. And amazingly enough, sometimes there is great joy and possibility. I am loving the wonkiness of the mandala — created purposefully — and I’m thinking of working on a series!
I’ve been thinking a lot about kindness lately. Kindness makes a difference in the difficulties surrounding me — whether they be deeply personal, or impact the entire human race. Kind thoughts, words, and actions assuage feelings, soothe souls, and make things right, or at least, more right. On the other hand, unkind thoughts, words, and actions, make everything more difficult, and more dark.
I’m saddened by how remarkably easy it is for us as humans to adopt attitudes, behaviors, and words that are unkind. Lately, to make matters worse, unkind acts seem to be more readily accepted, magnified, justified, and even cheered on in news reports and on social media.
Enough is enough.
I’m reminded of the scripture “Whatever is true, whatever is noble, whatever is right, whatever is pure, whatever is lovely, what ever is admirable – if anything is excellent or praiseworthy — think about such things.” (Philippians 4) Kindness in thought, word, and deed, is noble, right, pure, lovely, admirable, excellent, and praiseworthy, so I am going to think and speak of them a bit.
Let me tell you about an act of kindness done directly for me. I got an email the other day with the subject “Have courage!” These three young friends learned I wasn’t well, and decided to do something about it. They wanted me to find courage — to fight, to win, to get well, and to be ok in the process. Their desire was kind. And I am incredibly grateful for it.
But, they weren’t done. They didn’t just wish me well, and encourage me to be strong. They chose to think and act with creativity and kindness, and actually send me courage! How fantabulous are they? The canvases are en route and I can’t wait to receive them and hang them.
Courage, love, and kindness coming my way!
These girls reminded me of Leon Logothetis. If you don’t know Leon, it’s worth your while to give him a look. His gig and mission is highlighting the good in humanity, and if you ask me, being a champion of kindness. His definition of kindness is: The act of truly seeing someone and making them feel less alone.
That is what these three girls did. They saw me. As my kindergartners would say “They REALLY saw you, Ms. James!” and they made me feel less alone.
I chose the title of this post — Courage through Kindness — to highlight the courage that I received through these lovely humans’ kind thoughts and deeds. But as I wrote the words, I thought “Kindness is a form of courage.” To choose to think and act in kind ways is courageous — and fantabulous. I am honored and blessed to know these three and their families. Their kindness and love is powerful. I trust their love and kindness — and they themselves — will only grow in might, beauty, and influence. Reminding myself of that fact, I release a bit of worry, and breathe a bit easier for the present, and the future.
Hiking always refreshes, and challenges my watercolor practice. I love looking and gazing and wondering how I might adequately capture with watercolor, what I see with my eyes.
This year I was super curious and delighted by the sky and water. If you have a moment, give the sky and water around you more of your attention. They are amazing gifts.
Here they are in three different, yet equally beautiful scenarios. (Just looking at the photos transports me back, and makes my breath deepen and lengthen. Sigh.)
Then, and now, as I look at them, and endeavor to paint them, I realize my brother is right.
I read to my Kindergartners everyday at lunch. It’s always an adventure in listening, laughing, noticing, discussing, wondering, and, frankly, making proclamations.
Yesterday one of the reads was Happy Dog Sizzles by Lisa Grubb. Part way through the story, the characters begin creating. Lisa used the term “junk” to describe the things used by her characters. She did not misspeak. In many ways, the items being used could be characterized as junk — a broken instrument, a broken lamp, an old hat.
As I read the word junk, one of my girls proclaimed, “That’s not junk!”
Me: “It’s not?!?!
Her: “No!” she replied emphatically. “That’s maker-stuff!”
Her voice seemed to call more of her peers to the page. All about the room there were echoes of agreement. “Yeah, that’s not junk. That’s maker-stuff!”
Me: (heart glowing with love and pride in their fantabulousness) “You know what? You’re right! It is maker-stuff!”
I read the rest of the book substituting maker-stuff for junk.
My Kindergartners are right. It’s all about how we look at it.
As I considered a photo for this post, I gathered up some things forgotten in the back of drawers, or placed in the trash/recycling bin — contact lens containers, a pebble from a walk, a bottle top, the inside roll from tape, an old marker lid, part of a security envelope, the top of a canning jar, a bent paperclip, and an old hair tie.
With my Kindergartners words and emotions fresh in my mind, I interacted with these items, not as junk, but as items with untold potential.
I purposefully staged the photo. I considered each piece, and placed it carefully on a gold-lined dish. I created pleasant ribbon swirls. I arranged and rearranged the items several times until I was satisfied. Then I photographed and processed the image to emphasize the feeling of importance, beauty, and art.
My kindergartners were right. In our awesome hands — animated by our big beautiful brains, fantabulous imagination, and spectacular hearts — it’s not junk, it’s maker-stuff.
Artist Ekua Holmes is planting 10,000 sunflowers, and changing her part of the world.
“Artists deal in the currency of hope,” Holmes said. “We deal in the currency of beauty, and our job is to reflect back to society what we see.” (Boston Globe, July 11, 2018)
Oh my gosh! YES!
As creatives — artists, thinkers, possibilitarians, musicians, writers, makers – we are about beauty.
We look for beauty. We find beauty. And when we cannot find it, we create it. We live in the realm of possibility — perhaps because of our belief in beauty and hope — and we invite others join us there.
I love that idea! Beauty, hope, and possibility are my currency!
Then I thought: Isn’t this true of us as educators as well? Or, perhaps shouldn’t this be true of us as educators? Shouldn’t beauty, hope, and possibility be our currency as well?
Isn’t it our job to recognize the beauty, hope and possibility that exists in our students, our admins, our parents, and our selves? Don’t we, everyday, endeavor to find and illuminate the beauty, hope and possibility inherent in learning, struggling, wondering, failing, falling, persisting, discovering, collaborating, and simply being?
Yes! Yes, we do.
Beauty, hope, and possibility. It’s part of us as educators. It’s our currency. It’s our strength.
Let’s embrace it, live it, and offer it to all those around us.
Life lived with relentless creativity 