Читать книгу The Innovative Parent - Erica Curtis - Страница 13

2

Why We Love to Hate Glitter Glue (and Other Struggles with Art)

As a child, my wooden blocks become buildings and cars, with windows and wheels meticulously drawn using crayons and markers. Under my bed, I am Michelangelo drawing on the bed frame—my personal Sistine Chapel. In the dark corner of my closet, I am making ritual cave drawings on the walls. My little creative juices are flowing, and I am thrilled about my ideas. My parents are not. “No,” they say. “No. No. No.” My face falls. I feel my creative voice being stifled. Into adulthood, I secretly question their wisdom in those moments . . . until I become a parent myself. “We draw on paper, not on furniture. No, not on your toys either. Not walls. Paper. No. No. No.” As I hear my words, my own childhood experience returns to me. I feel conflicted. Where do freedom of expression and limits intersect?

It’s messy. It creates frustrations. It will likely get on clothes. It could ruin the furniture, the floors, the walls. Frankly, there are easier things to do with your kids than art. Blocks, trains, and video games don’t require hosing your kids down afterward. They won’t drive your child to tears because something got spilt or doesn’t look right. Other activities don’t make us hold our breath as we anticipate a rogue scribble spree on the walls or an entire bottle of glitter glue squeezed directly onto the table. There are a lot of good reasons we love to hate art. Art materials can challenge both kids and parents. And yet, these very situations that test us can provide some of the most powerful opportunities for personal growth.

Art gets messy, and so does life. What better place than the untidy world of art to practice ways of dealing with the messiness of life. Art offers the important opportunity to explore boundaries between personal freedom and the needs of others; between self-expression and self-containment. It allows us to consider where we can loosen up as parents, distinguishing between necessary limits and unnecessary preoccupations. In this chapter, we will not only explore these themes but also offer practical strategies for setting limits, containing messes, and rethinking our struggles with the unpleasant parts of art making as a metaphor for parenting in general.

WHERE LIMITS MEET FREEDOM OF EXPRESSION

“Can I pour my orange juice into my oatmeal?” My son asks. “No,” is my husband’s immediate response. (He feels strongly about kids not playing with food.) I get it. Nevertheless, I check in to see if he is okay with me stepping in. He gives me the green light.

“What’s your plan?” I ask my son. “Are you done eating? Are you curious about how it would taste? Do you want to experiment to see what happens?”

“I want to make a new recipe,” my son replies.

“Sure,” I say. “Let’s get a separate bowl and put a little oatmeal in it and add a little orange juice. If you like it, you can mix it all together. If you don’t, then you won’t have ruined your breakfast.” He gets a separate bowl and tests out his innovative recipe. He likes it, mixes up the rest of his breakfast, and licks the bowl clean.

Kids need a balance between freedom of expression and containment. With too many demands and restrictions (authoritarian parenting) or too much freedom and indulgence (permissive parenting), kids will tend to display more behavioral, social, and emotional difficulties. Research on parenting styles from the 1960s until now has consistently revealed that children raised with a balance of high expectations and responsiveness to their needs, as well as a balance between clear limits and flexibility, do better socially, emotionally, and academically (Baumrind 1966; Suldo and Huebner 2004). This is called authoritative parenting, and the creative arts offer a rich arena for parents and professionals to rehearse and fine-tune this balancing act.

Expression and experimentation

Many of us have a knee-jerk “No” reaction to creative expression and exploration either because we were taught in the past that it was not okay or because we determine in the present that this is going to be a hassle. When we think consciously about it, we can begin to clarify why it’s not okay. We may even be surprised that we are okay with the activity after all and come to see these moments of spontaneous creativity as something upon which we can capitalize. Here’s how:

Pause first. Instead of “Yes” or “No,” try saying: “I’m not sure. Tell me what you’re doing here.” Or, as in the example above: “What’s your plan?” Asking thought-provoking questions like these will help you and your child pause to consider the situation, without cutting off the creative potential that’s brewing. Inquiring about your child’s plan prompts the executive functioning part of his brain (responsible for planning, organizing, problem solving, and thinking before taking action) to come online and consider: “What am I actually doing here?” In the above example, it allowed my son to consider his intention and develop a deliberate, creative idea. Learning more about your child’s intention also allows you, the adult, to help shape the direction of the activity as needed (e.g., “Let’s get a separate bowl and mix just a little bit together first.”).

2.1 Three steps for deciding to give the go-ahead

Next, ask yourself the following three, simple questions (see fig. 2.1):

1. Is it safe?

2. Is it respectful of the rights or property of others?

3. Does it align with family values?

If the answer to each of these questions is “Yes,” then it’s probably okay for your children to go ahead expressing and exploring. For my husband, playing with food was a violation of number three, a conflict with his values: We don’t play with our food. However, he forgot to consider the intention behind the behavior. Our son was playing chef (or at least that’s what he decided he was doing after I asked him to pause and consider his actions). He wasn’t just interested in smooshing and squishing his food together. In our family, creating new recipes is acceptable for mealtime. Smooshing and squishing for the sake of smooshing and squishing would have needed to wait until later.

Let’s look at another example:

When my son first draws on himself with a marker, my “No” reflex kicks in: “We don’t draw on ourselves, we draw on paper.” I ask myself: But why? Because it’s not okay? Because my parents didn’t let me draw on myself? Hmmm. Not a good enough reason. So, why? Because it violates our family value of looking presentable? But for what? For whom? He’s a kid. We’re not going for family photos. Why then? Because it’s toxic! Safety is a good reason. But the markers are nontoxic. Hmmm. Back to the drawing board. It doesn’t violate any property or person. It is safe. I value self-expression more than I value a marker-free body. I decide that I don’t care after all. Instead of “No,” I exclaim joyfully (and nonjudgmentally), “Look at you!” My son beams.

But this is not the end of the story. As things go with kids, he takes his experimentation a step further. Thrilled by the go-ahead to draw on his body, he begins to color his face. I decide to set the limit there. Despite being “washable,” marker ink takes days to remove, and I prefer for him not to have a green face for the better part of the week. I buy him a set of face paints instead. “You can draw on your body, just not on your face. If you want to decorate your face, use the face paint.” My son is excited about the face paint, but corrects me: “I wasn’t decorating my face, Mom.” (Insert “Duh!” look here.) “I was making a mask!” I chuckle to myself as I realize I had forgotten to ask about his plan in the first place. “Of course you were! Would you like to make a mask together?” I get out the construction paper, a less messy option for mask making. “What color do you want it to be?”

There are no absolutes when it comes to deciding when to cut our kids some slack and when to rein them in. It’s okay for you not to allow your children to draw on themselves. Perhaps one of your family values is to have clean, marker-free bodies. Perhaps you’re concerned about toxicity or possible classroom distraction and disapproval. You can decide on a case-by-case basis whether or not there is more room for creative expression and exploration than you may have initially thought. A “No” conclusion also doesn’t have to mean putting the kibosh on creative expression altogether. It may simply mean providing a bit more guidance and containment, as the next section explores.

Containment

I present a box of markers to the members of my art therapy group at a school for teens with emotional and behavioral difficulties. I don’t even have the chance to share my activity idea before the markers start flying across the room as the kids take aim at one another. It is chaos. “Stop” will not work. Reminding them of expectations will not work either. They are full of energy and feeling rambunctious (aka defiant). Removing the markers altogether would stop the playful battle but with a counterproductive message: “You’re not capable of handling yourselves.” They are capable of managing themselves; they just need a little more containment.

I quickly tape a large piece of butcher paper on the wall and draw a bull’s-eye. Several feet back from the wall, I stick a strip of masking tape on the floor. “Line up here!” I call. Then, pointing to the bull’s-eye, I challenge them: “Let’s see who can score the most points.” In an instant, the markers stop rocketing through the air. The teens all line up with their marker “darts” in hand. They wait patiently. They take turns aiming at the makeshift dartboard. They keep score and even root for each other. They enjoy themselves and, importantly, contain themselves.

When we think about containing children’s behavior, we often cut our options short, relying either on verbal limits (stop, don’t, not okay) or removing them from the activity. While, indeed, removal is sometimes the only option, these common strategies significantly reduce our opportunities to teach children how to stay engaged and expressive in a manner that is safe, respectful, and in line with our values. Containment comes in many different forms. It may include clarifying expectations, offering alternative choices, or providing boundaries, as in the example above. For any of these to be effective, however, the choice of containment must be informed by needs underlying the behavior.

A single behavior can represent any number of needs, feelings, thoughts, concerns, or curiosities, depending upon the child and the situation. An adult may insist, “Stop drawing on the furniture.” However, changing a child’s behavior requires addressing the underlying reasons for the action: Did she not know the rule? Is she testing a limit? Is she curious about how the marker looks on the sofa? Is it part of her play? Did she run out of paper and not know what to do? Is she angry? If the child was never taught the rule, or needs reminding, a simple reminder and redirection to a piece of paper may be sufficient. However, if the child is angry, reminders alone will not address the issue. She’ll likely scribble on the wall or table next, just to make her point known. In such a case, the anger needs to be addressed also.

Sometimes we can take an educated guess as to the need behind the action. With the marker-throwing teens in the example above, I had a good hunch that their needs included fun and energy release. They were also testing my limits. The containment of a large piece of paper, a piece of tape on the floor, and a simple set of directions responded to each of these needs: 1) yes, we can have fun, 2) yes, we can get our energy out without throwing things at each other, and 3) yes, I can handle whatever you throw at me (literally).

If you’re uncertain of the need behind the behavior, try these steps (see fig. 2.2):

2.2 Identify and address underlying needs

If the same behavior persists, consider providing containment by making the items in question available only under supervision. The scissors in my house have fallen into that category several times. Over the years my three kids have, at various times, cut their own hair, a pillow, window blinds, the rug, each other’s belongings, and more. The needs behind the actions have varied from “my bangs were too long” to “I was mad” or “I wanted to see if the scissors were sharp enough to cut this . . . and they were!” For repeat offenses, regardless of the underlying reason, you can explain, “I’m going to put the scissors away. When you need to use them, if I’m available, I will get them and sit with you while you use them.” This applies to other materials as well.

Paint and pencil yield different powers

“Using markers and paper, draw something from nature,” I announce to a group of teens with autism spectrum disorder (ASD). We are generating images for a mural they will later paint in the school courtyard. They set to work at their desks and voilà! Drawings of trees, flowers, a pond, a volcano, a forest, butterflies, and more. The next week, we brainstorm further. They are given paint and work in pairs to create images of nature again. We get muddy mess, frustration, conflict, and shutdown. What happened?

Materials have different properties and thus evoke different experiences in the user. Structured materials such as markers, pencils and erasers, rulers, collage materials, and glue sticks tend to be containing. They are less tactile and easier to control. On the other hand, looser materials like paint, wet clay, runny glue, and glitter are harder to control. They tend to be oozy and gooey, sticky, or messy and, like their sensory qualities, can loosen up emotions and impulses as well. Because of this, sometimes the key to balancing self-expression and containment resides within the properties of the art materials themselves.

Returning to the example above, there are several ways to explain what may have gone awry during the painting activity: lack of interest in the activity, lack of technical skill, inability to collaborate. But none of these fit. The students were invested. They were able to draw images from nature. They were capable of collaborating . . . they just needed more containment to be successful at it. As is typical for individuals on the autism spectrum, social interactions were not only difficult but also distressing. Offering a loose material, when these teens were already feeling challenged socially and emotionally, was not a recipe for success. They needed more structure and containment, and we could provide that through a simple change in materials.

We swap paints and brushes for materials that provide significantly more containment and structure. By shrinking and photocopying their original nature drawings onto transparencies, our students are able to overlap their images with those of their classmates, thus creating a single, combined image. A tree on one transparency can now find a home next to an ocean from another transparency. Using an overhead projector to project and trace their combined images onto a single piece of paper, they successfully work together to create a collaborative landscape.

Thinking about the materials that you offer and how they might affect emotions and behavior can make all the difference in helping your child explore the balance between freedom of expression and self-containment. If she is playing with looser material, it’s important to think about how to help contain the energy that the material creates. In the face of a more challenging task, your child may benefit from more structured materials. Here are some more examples of ways to use materials to help children from getting too carried away, overwhelmed, or overstimulated by an art activity:

• Put a paper plate or tray under clay, glitter, or beading activities.

• Offer a smaller piece of paper instead of an overwhelmingly large one. Or place a larger piece of paper beneath the smaller one. The larger piece of paper can essentially “frame” the smaller one, providing clearer visual boundaries for art making. If a child is working with paint or a similarly loose material, the larger piece will also catch the overflow and prevent it from ending up on the table.

• Make hand wipes accessible.

• Place finger paints and paper inside a shallow box.

Conversely, looser materials may be useful for children who could use a little loosening up. For children who become easily frustrated, don’t like messes, or tend to be hard on themselves, you may want to slowly challenge them to have fun with looser materials:

• Offer paints and the task to “make the ugliest painting possible.”

• Provide larger paper, paintbrushes, and sponges. Put paper on a floor, wall, or easel instead of on the confinements of a table.

• Experiment with process-based activities without any expectations for the outcome. For example, attach crayons to the top of a canvas with hot glue. Then use a hair dryer to melt the crayons and watch them drip down the canvas.

Keeping the properties of materials in mind isn’t only about containing messes and behavior with which we prefer not to deal. When we provide support for children to practice the balance of self-expression and self-management, we are helping them prepare for life (see fig. 2.3). From peer relationships to classroom and workplace demands, the more opportunities that children have to practice impulse control, persistence, collaboration, focus, and breaking down large tasks into manageable parts—to name a few—the more connected, happier, and successful they will be.

2.3 Balance containment and self-expression

. . .

TRY THIS:

Experiment with how different materials feel not only to the touch but also in terms of sensations, impulses, or thoughts that they provoke in mind and body. Set out a variety of materials, both structured and unstructured. Try each one out with your children in turn. What thoughts and feelings, if any, do they evoke? Do you or your children feel challenged by any of the materials? Loosened up? Contained? Which materials do you dislike? Why? Of what do they remind you? If you are doing this experiment with younger children, ask which they like best and least. Which are easy or hard to work with? Which make them feel messy, silly, happy, or frustrated?

. . .

We can use information generated from this exercise to inform what materials to use with our children to loosen them up or rein them in. What’s more, the exercise itself helps children begin to pay attention to the impact of different experiences on how they feel and respond, as well as how they can shift their feeling state by changing sensory input.

MESSY, LOUD, AND OFF-KEY

“Da Da Da da-da Da da-da Da,” My son starts singing the Darth Vader theme from Star Wars. After a few bars, my daughter starts in with her favorite princess song. My son gets louder. My daughter tries to outdo him. They’re enjoying themselves as they sing over each other, louder and louder. My nerves are shot. We’re in the car. I’m driving. The cacophony is compelling me to shout: “Stop!” I resist. They’re not doing anything wrong, per se. I want to want to let them carry on, but I’m tired and want them to cease.

Kids are told “No” a lot during the day, which is why it’s important to use creative moments to say “Yes” as much as possible. Encouraging creativity, exploration, and self-expression indeed requires tolerating scraps of paper on the floor, loud banging on pots and pans, and off-key singing of the same annoying song over and over again. But it doesn’t have to mean a free-for-all either. It’s equally important to teach kids how and when to be messy, loud, and off-key in a way that considers the needs of others and teaches responsibility.

Nope, that doesn’t work for me

“Can we add glitter?!” my daughter asks as we work on her brother’s birthday banner. Ugh. I want to say “No.” I go through my checklist. Is it a safety issue? No. Does it violate the rights or property of others? No. Is it in opposition to our family values? Nope. So, then, why not? The answer comes, clear as day: because I’m tired, and I have a million other things to do, and it’s just plain inconvenient for me right now. And then I realize that’s okay, too.

It’s okay to say “No” to our children, even when it’s for entirely selfish reasons. In fact, it’s important to do so. For starters, we parents need breaks now and again. We’re happier and more balanced as parents when we take them. We need opportunities to meet our own needs, instead of stretching ourselves so thin that we resent the continual demands of others.

Saying “No” also provides the opportunity to teach valuable lessons, such as consideration of others and time constraints. As Robin Berman points out in Permission to Parent (2014), many well-meaning parents overindulge their children for fear of hurting their feelings. What results, she emphasizes, is a generation of children unable to handle setbacks and disappointments. They struggle to consider the needs of others. As important as it is to open the doors to creative expression (and to stretch our tolerance for loud, messy, and off-key activities), we can also support our children’s growth when we say “No” once in a while. It matters how we do this, though (see fig. 2.4).

Step 1: Affirm the activity—Find something positive about the activity: “I notice you came up with a new idea” or “I see you really rockin’ out on those drums.”

Step 2: Take responsibility—Clearly state whose needs are not being met: “Unfortunately, it doesn’t work for me (your brother, the family, us, our classroom) right now.” Together, steps 1 and 2 communicate clearly that you are open to the creative expression, and something about it isn’t working right now for other reasons.

Step 3: Give your reason—Explain why it doesn’t work right now. Be concise. Explanations are not invitations for negotiation. Nor are they attempts to convince. Rather, an explanation helps children learn to consider factors such as time management or the needs of others.

Step 4: Explore alternatives—Offer an alternative time or place to do the activity, a different activity altogether, or an adaptation of the activity that addresses the issue. You might even ask your child to come up with suggestions.

Here are some examples of how to put this into practice:

2.4 Four steps for saying “No”

Scenario 1: Your child is pulling out the paints, and you both need to leave soon.

Scenario 2: Your child is singing loudly in the car.

Address the mess

“Here,” I say, as I hand my client a piece of paper. “Rip this up.” He has come into my office angry, and my aim is to give him an outlet. And rip he does. He tears that piece of paper, and several more, into tiny bits. Then he throws them all over the couch and floor like confetti.

“Wow! It’s a lot, isn’t it? . . . And all over the place,” I comment about the paper (and his anger). He has expressed his anger, discharged some of his emotional energy, and demonstrated the magnitude of his feelings. We sit amid the resulting mess. Now what?

“Okay, now what should we do with all of this?” I pose the question to him. He looks at me quizzically. Was I really suggesting that he clean it all up?!

“Do you want to keep it in an envelope or get rid of it?” I ask.

“Let’s get rid of it,” he says definitively.

“Okay, let’s do it!” I say. I have a hunch that, while he’s not too keen on tidying up the room, he is ready to throw out the anger. Together, we put hundreds of paper scraps into the recycling bin and, in the process, his mood returns to baseline. Addressing the mess is as important as expressing anger in the first place.

Addressing the aftermath of an art experience can feel tedious for parents and kids alike, but inherent in the process are valuable opportunities. Cleaning up helps kids take responsibility, teaches problem solving, and promotes a sense of family citizenship. As in the example above, it also helps kids feel more contained after an energetic or emotional art session. Many parents avoid art activities due to the mess factor. However, when we consider cleanup as a valuable experience in itself, rather than just a tiresome means to an end, we may be willing to let our kids get down and dirty more often.

Of course, it also helps to minimize the mess to begin with. We do, after all, have other things to do in our day. Here are some practical tips to minimize mess:

• Designate a craft table and make it accessible—My kids had a craft table but they never used it. Instead, they staked claim on the dining room table for projects; thus, mealtimes began with the added inconvenience of tidying it up (or at least shoving things to the side). Why didn’t they use the craft table? I surmised that the problem was twofold: 1) it wasn’t big enough for both of them to use at the same time (I believe they secretly like to be near each other all the time, despite a façade to the contrary) and 2) it was in their bedroom, away from the main activity of the house where they like to be. We got a larger table for them to work on and moved it to a more central location. While we still needed to tidy it from time to time (lest they revert to the dining room table), we were able to do so at our own convenience rather than at every mealtime.

• Use drop cloths, newspaper, or paper bags—As obvious as it may seem to suggest using such things as drop cloths or newspaper to catch a mess, you wouldn’t believe the number of times I’ve found myself scrubbing the coffee table while muttering to myself: “Next time I have to put down wax paper before they start clay projects.” Throw a sheet over the dining room table or onto the floor. Afterward, toss it into the washing machine. Or, use old newspapers. For smaller, drippy, gooey, or glittery projects, provide a paper plate on which to work. Not only will this protect the work surface and contain the mess, but also it will make the project easier to move.

• Invest in bins or baskets—Bins, craft containers, folders, or baskets into which to throw materials make cleanup much easier. It’s easier for the kids to help if you don’t worry about organizing the bins themselves. Throw all the paints and brushes into one. Put all the stickers, glue, and scissors in another. Markers and pencils in yet another. Snap, stack, and done.

• Bring out the vacuum!—The vacuum cleaner can be your best friend.

My kids think that they hit the jackpot when they discover colored sand in the craft cupboard. I let out an audible groan. I don’t want to deal with the mess that I know it will make. I am about to say “No” when I realize . . . there actually couldn’t be an easier mess to clean up. “No problem!” I say, delighted by my revelation. “When you’re done, here’s the vacuum.” Weeks later, they want to break up Styrofoam. No problem! “When you’re done, vacuum it up.” Another day, it was cutting tiny pieces of felt for no apparent reason. “Looks like fun! There’s the vacuum for when you’re done.”

• Move the project outside—While moving a project outside can make it more expansive and messier, by the same token it doesn’t matter quite as much. Hosing down grass, sidewalks, or your kids is a lot easier (and more fun) than scrubbing floors and tables. Alternatively, move the project to the bathroom. Painting, shaving foam, and other ooey-gooey activities that are safe to wash down the drain can be done right in the bath or shower.

• Make available only those materials that you want to deal with at a moment’s notice—My kids have access to most art materials. I like them to be inspired by what they find, and I also like them to be relatively self-sufficient with their projects. It promotes independence and saves me from having to find whatever they need. That said, I also keep certain materials out of reach. Paint and loose glitter, for example, are accessible only to grown-up hands. Because of their mess factor, potential for overuse, and labor intensiveness, these are projects that I want to know about before my kids start them.

Make cleanup and care for materials a habit. We all fall into the bad habit of cleaning up messes for our kids. It gets too late. It’s easier (and faster) if we just do it ourselves. You know the reasons. I use them, too. Making cleanup a habit (even for children as young as two or three years old), however, sets up a healthy habit for years to come. Here are some tips:

• Help your kids clean up—Shouting “Make sure to clean up!” from the other room is rarely effective. I know. I’ve tried. Working together is not only motivating. It also reinforces the important feeling of being a team.

• Think small, specific tasks—Kids (even teens) need large tasks to be broken into small, specific tasks. “Clean up” is a confusing and overwhelming concept. “Put all the stickers in this box, first” is doable. Think of it as running a marathon. It’s much easier to run from the end of one block to the next until you’ve finished the distance than it is to set out focusing on the entire, overwhelmingly large distance ahead.

• Make it fun—Sing. Race the clock. Race each other. Let them do the spraying and vacuuming. For younger children, encourage them to load up materials in their toy trucks and drive them where they need to go. For teens, turn up their favorite energizing tunes. Cleanup need not be a chore.

• Teach natural consequences—Let them know that leaving the lid off clay or caps off markers will dry out those materials. Point out that unwashed brushes will get too hard to use again and will need to be tossed. Papers left on the floor will accidently get stepped on and crumpled.

• Involve your child in problem solving—Instead of “time to clean up,” ask your child specific questions that require putting on his thinking cap: “Okay, where should we put your picture to dry? What should we do about these brushes? Where should we put these strips of fabric?” and so forth.

DESTRUCTION

Just a few weeks before our final session together, Christopher begins dismantling the structure on which he has worked so hard during his year in therapy with me. He tears off the toilet paper roll chimney, detaches the cardboard roof, and rips off the button and string that serve as a secure latch for the door. As he removes each piece, he places it back in the supply bin from where he originally got it. A colleague surmises either that the destruction represents his anger about the upcoming goodbye or that he doesn’t trust me to keep his structure safe after he leaves. Another hypothesizes that he wants to destroy the memory of our time together, to make goodbye more tolerable. The following week, I watch and narrate as the destruction continues. I comment only on what I see, rather than making assumptions or judgments (see also appendix 1: “Guidelines for Talking about Art and Life”). I remark: “I see you’re taking it all apart and then putting the pieces back from where you got them.” He looks up at me, “Yes. That way you have them to help the next child, just like you helped me.” Christopher isn’t angry. In fact, he isn’t destroying anything at all. He is acknowledging his own healing and paying it forward.

When we think about art, we think about making stuff. Rarely do we think about dismantling or destruction. We smile at the thought of our children drawing pictures (not scribbling over them), manipulating pipe cleaners into flowers (not chopping them into hundreds of pieces), and playing rhythms (not banging as loud and hard as possible). When we get handed an “I love you” drawing, we respond with: “Ahhhh.” Drawings of buildings exploding get an: “Ohhhh.” When we see something that looks like destruction, either during or after the creative process, we may jump to negative conclusions and unnecessarily cut the expression short. We may also miss the opportunity to explore the meaning behind the action.

Sometimes what looks like destruction isn’t at all destructive. It is productive. This section examines the productive nature of destruction in children’s art. We’ll look at how we can better understand, discuss, and embrace the scribbles, scrunches, and explosions that are part of art and, metaphorically speaking, life.

Mess-ups and meltdowns

My son expects a lot of himself. He hates it when he forms his numbers and letters “wrong.” He likes his drawings to look “just so” and berates himself when they don’t. When he’s not satisfied, he scribbles over his art or writing, scrunches it up, and gets stuck in a funk. While I want to reassure him, I don’t try to convince him that his mistakes “look fine” because that approach won’t work. On many occasions, I try to problem-solve with him about how he can change mistakes into something new. I encourage him to think about how to fix what he doesn’t like. For inspiration, I read him the book “Beautiful Oops” by Barney Saltzberg (2010). Sometimes my strategies work. On many occasions, they don’t . . .

One day my son is drawing, and he “messes up.” I try to comfort him. He shouts,“I’m so stupid at this!” I try to encourage him to fix it. His agitation grows. I remind him he can start over. He begins taking it out on everyone around him. I look at the scrunched-up paper in front of him—his little wad of frustration, disappointment, and anger. In a flash of insight, I try an entirely different approach. “Look what you made!” I exclaim, pointing to the crumpled paper. He stops and looks at me. I have his attention. “You made a sculpture of your mad brain. Can we title it and put your name on it?” He smiles. We write “Mad Brain” on his sculpture along with his name. Then we photograph it.

Weeks later, I find my son drawing at his table. In front of him are a couple of drawings and three wads of scrunched-up paper. “Look, Mommy!” he announces cheerfully. “I made three mini-mad brains!” He smooths out the wads of paper, shows me his mistakes, and then scrunches them up again. “You can tell I’ve been working hard this morning, can’t you?” he says with a grin. I smile back. “You sure have.”

Sometimes when kids destroy their art, they want it gone—forever—but just as plants grow from fertile soil after fire, dismantling or destroying what was originally there can make room for new creation to emerge. Our adult impulse may be to fix or repair (whether it be art, homework, or feelings), but when we embrace what is present, rather than trying to make it better, sometimes it resolves on its own. In this example, rather than trying to alter my son’s experience, I simply acknowledged it without judgment or expecting it to be different. It was from this mindset that I was able to respond more creatively. It was from this place that my son could be okay with his mistakes.

Helping kids embrace their mistakes may be even more important than we realize. According to Sir Ken Robinson (2011), internationally acclaimed author and expert in arts education and business innovation, innate creativity is destroyed when we stigmatize mistakes. He asserts that those who are not prepared to be wrong will never come up with anything original.

Embracing mistakes is also characteristic of a growth mindset that supports learning and creativity. Carol Dweck (2006), professor of psychology at Stanford University, defines a growth mindset as one that embraces mistakes as part of the learning process, which enables positive risk-taking and greater academic achievement. This contrasts with a fixed mindset that avoids challenges and making mistakes because of the belief that capabilities are fixed and limited. A fixed mindset may say, “I’m not good at this” and avoid engagement for fear of revealing deficiency; whereas, a growth mindset may say, “I can learn from this mistake” and pursue a challenge toward achieving mastery. Both behavioral observations and neuroimaging reveal vastly broader brain engagement in students with a growth versus fixed mindset when doing the same cognitive task (Moser et al. 2011). Not surprisingly, students whose brain scans showed greater engagement were more successful at learning from their mistakes, and at making fewer future errors, than their fixed mindset counterparts. The good news is that a fixed mindset can become a growth mindset under the right learning process that embraces mistakes and rewards effort.

. . .

TRY THIS:

Make a binder that celebrates oopses, errors, and unexpected surprises. Read Barney Saltzberg’s Beautiful Oops or Peter Reynolds’s Ish with your children for inspiration on ways to turn mistakes into opportunities. Keep a binder for each of your children, where they can celebrate their messes and mistakes whether in art, schoolwork, or other activities. Share an observation such as “I notice you didn’t give up on this homework project” or “I heard you say you messed up, and yet you turned it into something new! Would you like to put it in our special place of honor?” So as not to embarrass them, make adding “oopses” to the binder optional. Alternatively, place a jar in a communal area where children and parents alike can place a colorful pom pom every time they make a mistake from which they learn (see fig. 2.5). Rather than something about which to be embarrassed or frustrated, this simple activity can transform mistakes into something to celebrate.

. . .

2.5 “Learning from mistakes” jar

As with all aspects of parenting, helping your children learn how to tolerate mistakes in life takes a little trial and error. In chapter 3: “Survive the Day” we will explore ways to talk to children about their art through “useful praise,” such as reinforcing qualities that you want to develop, helping your child reflect on his own work, and being accurate while being encouraging. While many of these tools are useful when your child is feeling frustrated by his art, you may need some additional approaches in those especially tough moments. Here are some to try:

• Acknowledge feelings—With any fumble in life, art making or otherwise, try to acknowledge feelings (without interpreting them) before jumping in with solutions so children feel understood. A simple statement of inquiry, prefaced by what you literally see (without judging it), may suffice: “I see your paper scrunched up. I wonder how you’re feeling?”

• Help them get specific—“I don’t like it” or “I messed up” is too general to address a problem effectively. Helping children hone in on the specific part they don’t like can reveal that the problem isn’t as big as their brain makes it seem. This can make problem solving and coping with difficult feelings much easier.

• Problem-solve together—Invite your child to problem-solve with you or a peer: “Let’s take a look together. You say you don’t like this part here? What do you think it needs so that you’ll like it better? Should we ask someone else for input?” Soliciting support from others may not only help in the moment but also impart a skill that will serve your children when dealing with other problems in life.

• Explore options (see fig. 2.6)—If your child has no idea how to proceed, you might offer some suggestions:

• “Would you like me [or someone else] to help fix it?”

• “Would you like to start over?”

• “Do you want to take a break from this for a little while?”

• “Should we turn this into something completely new and different?!”

• Admit you’re stuck, too—If you don’t know how to help, or your child has rejected all of your ideas, it’s okay to say “I’m not sure how to help, but I really want to.” Acknowledging that you’re also stuck can normalize the child’s experience and show that it’s okay not to know what to do sometimes.

2.6 Explore options for addressing mistakes

When scribbles strike (it may not be what you think)

A child is drawing happily when she suddenly begins to scribble over her drawing. The grown-up cries, “Oh no! Don’t scribble over it! It looked so pretty. Why did you ruin it?” The child replies, “I don’t know.” But she does.

Let’s rewind and redo.

A child is drawing happily when she suddenly begins to scribble over her drawing. The grown-up calmly notes, “Wow. I see a lot going on with that drawing. I wonder if you can tell me about it.” The child takes a deep breath and begins talking animatedly, “Well, there was a mermaid and a dolphin and they were swimming in the ocean and then this giant wave came splashing over them and they were riding in the wave and . . .”

She hasn’t destroyed the drawing. She is bringing it to life.

Certainly, there will be times when your child will scribble, scrunch, or rip when upset or frustrated. And yet other times what looks like destruction isn’t destruction at all. Young children will “scribble” over their drawings because they are doing their version of coloring it in. Slightly older children will scribble over their drawings or smoosh a sculpture as part of a story they’ve created in their imagination, as in the example above. At other times, a child may simply be inspired to change directions midstream. So, how do we know the difference?

Ask.

Rather than assuming something is wrong when scribbles and smooshes strike, approach your child with curiosity (see fig. 2.7):

1. Look for nonverbal clues—Your child may appear energized or animated, but does he look angry or frustrated?

2. Make nonjudgmental observations—“You’re ruining your beautiful art” is not an observation. It is a judgment about the art (it’s beautiful) and what you see happening to it (it’s getting ruined). An observation is a neutral description of what you actually observe: “I see you covering the whole page with red paint” or “I see you ripping up your paper.” Judgmental statements tend to stifle creativity, self-expression, and communication, while provoking resistance (“But I want to scribble on my art”) or resentment (“They don’t get it”). (For more about making nonjudgmental observations and preventing resistance, turn to appendix 1: “Guidelines for Talking about Art and Life” and chapter 4: “Connect First.”)

3. Invite more discussion—“I wonder what made you decide to do that?” or simply “I wonder if you can tell me about that?” are open-ended ways to encourage your child to share more about her intention. “I wonder” invites dialogue in a nonthreatening way, as it suggests that conclusions have not been reached.

2.7 Remove judgment and approach with curiosity

Guns, bombs, and other pictures we can’t stand

I cautiously enter my son’s room. I have just gotten frustrated with him and he with me. He doesn’t look up. I notice he is drawing a picture of a figure holding a gun. I begin to talk to him about what just transpired. I’m not sure if he’s listening. His only response is, “Uh huh. Uh huh.” He draws another figure—the target of a bullet flying out of the gun. I know he’s angry with me. I pause but continue. I acknowledge his anger and admit that I could have handled the situation better. He says nothing, but gives the targeted figure a hefty shield. I explain the reason for my frustration and tell him I love him. He adds a spaceship with two smiling figures inside. I ask him about his drawing. He says that he is fighting a bad guy, and then we escape together. He says he is sorry for what happened.

A lot of concern about angry, violent, and aggressive imagery comes from our fear of real violence. Although the National Center for Education Statistics reveals that school violence has actually decreased since the early 1990s (Musu-Gillette et al. 2018), tragic incidents like the 2012 shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School, where twenty children and six adults were killed, and the 2018 shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, where fourteen students and three adults were killed, raise very real concerns. Adults are quick to respond to violent imagery and words with discouraging statements like “That’s not nice” or “That’s not appropriate.” In some cases, children have been suspended from school or parents have been punished over the drawing of a gun. The American Psychological Association Zero Tolerance Task Force (2008) found that such punishment typically associated with “zero tolerance” policies is ineffective at reducing actual incidence of misbehavior, yet we misguidedly continue to respond nonconstructively to aggressive art in the hope of deterring actual threat.

Destructive or aggressive art often represents a healthy expression of children’s feelings and may even prevent the likelihood of actual violence. A music therapist might invite a child to write lyrics that express angry feelings. An art therapist might encourage a teen to express his upset toward someone in imagery as a substitute for bottling it up or acting on those feelings. One teen I worked with spontaneously drew futuristic spaceships firing guns. Seeing this as an opening to communicate about his emotional world, I asked him at whom the ships were firing. He responded by adding a math book and a dismembered math teacher floating in space. Far from an actual threat, his drawing was an expression of frustration toward the academic subject. By showing curiosity in his drawing and permitting the spontaneous violent imagery to emerge, I created an opportunity for a heartfelt conversation about his struggles.

While aggressive art can communicate something that is bothering a child, at other times it signifies a normal developmental curiosity about power, good guys versus bad guys, or exposure to weapons through media. When my young son bites his pancake into the shape of a gun, he’s not necessarily angry. When my daughter draws herself with a magical sword, she isn’t necessarily expressing violent inclinations. At times they are simply fascinated, like many kids their age, by themes of conflict and power. Through make-believe games and art they are able to explore these ideas safely, at least in contexts where permitted.

But how can we be sure that violent imagery isn’t a threat? How do we know whether it’s an expression of anger or merely repetition of something seen? Here are some points to consider:

• Understand the context—Are you aware of something having happened recently to upset your child? In the example above, my son and I had just had a conflict. This helped me understand his drawing of one person shooting another as expressing feelings about this event. Did he recently come across something that introduced a new idea? When my child started school, peers introduced him to themes from television shows that he hadn’t previously seen. When he started drawing ninjas, I knew that it was due to this influence. Have there been behaviors of concern or changes in your child’s demeanor lately? Aggressive art along with concerning changes in behavior or mood could suggest underlying emotional turmoil. Explore this further using some of the tips below or seek help in understanding what’s going on.

• Look for nonverbal cues—Consider your child’s body language and facial expression. Notice her demeanor while she is drawing, when she shows art to you, and when she talks about it. These will give you clues about her emotional state.

• Ask open-ended questions—“I wonder if you can tell me about this?” and “I wonder what’s going on here?” are good conversation starters. You can also encourage your child to tell a story about his art by saying, “I wonder what’s going to happen next?” or asking questions like, “I wonder what are they shooting at each other?” Your child’s answer can help you get a better sense of his intentions. If your child responds with, “They are shooting chocolate at each other,” it’s probable that he is being playful. If he answers, “This guy is shooting fire at his brother,” it’s possible that he is having feelings toward his brother that need further exploration.

• Reflect what you see—If a child won’t respond to your questions (a good clue that she may be upset about something), try reflecting what you see: “Hmmm . . . I see a lot of teeth showing on that guy’s face. I wonder what he is feeling?” or “I see this guy doing something to that guy.” Literally stating what you see in the art is a noninterpretive and nonjudgmental approach that may help your child start talking about her art.

• Address the feelings—If your child expresses anger, frustration, or hurt feelings toward you or someone else, let him know that you appreciate that he shared how he feels. Also let him know that you’re glad that he used drawing to feel better rather than saying or doing something hurtful to the other person.

• Teach empathy—While we want to validate art making as a good way to express difficult feelings, it’s also important to teach children about the power of pictures and words to hurt the feelings of others: “I’m glad that you are dealing with your anger toward your sister with drawings. How do you think she might feel if she saw this, though? . . . Yeah, so it’s a good way for you to get your feelings out and, at the same time, showing her would hurt her feelings and not solve the problem. Instead, when you’re ready, we can go tell her that you didn’t like what she did to you.”

• Seek a second opinion—If you are concerned about a child (or find that you are trying to convince yourself not to be concerned), do not probe further than what feels comfortable to you. Instead, talk to someone about it. Seek the input of a teacher, school administrator, friend, or therapist. If you are not the parent, share your observations and concerns with the parents or others.

LETTING GO

During a visit to the home of my in-laws, I introduce window crayons to my kids and their cousins. The crayons seem harmless enough. Draw on the window. Wipe it off. What fun! Unexpected condensation, however, spells disaster. The window drawings drip and smear and—worse—stain my mother-in-law’s new, white window blinds. Yikes! My mother-in-law tries to convince me, “It’s okay. Really. I’m really okay with it.” But how can she be? It isn’t going to come out. I feel terrible. She continues, “Whenever I look at it, now, it will remind me of the kids and what a nice time we all had together.” I am in awe.

Change your thoughts and change your experience. Despite the number of times that I teach this in my therapy practice and workshops, I’m always amazed at its effectiveness when put into practice. My mother-in-law easily could have told herself that her blinds were “ruined.” She could have lamented about the amount of money she had spent on them and how new they were. But she didn’t. This moment held in it the potential for frustration, disappointment, and annoyance. And yet, it equally held the potential for understanding, nostalgia, and joy. It wasn’t a given. It was a choice, and she chose the latter.

When we start to notice how we think and feel about daily events with our children, we begin to see how powerful our beliefs are about those events. Although changing how you think about spilled paint may not seem like a big deal, small creative moments that push your buttons are ideal opportunities to practice noticing your reactions and then shifting your thoughts and feelings to a more neutral, if not positive, framework. Stained blinds. Messy spills. Sticky fingerprints. Loud instruments. Scuffs on the floor from tap shoes. These are cringe-worthy moments that, if reframed, can not only strengthen our tolerance muscle but also help us experience parenting in a whole new light. Plus, they provide effective role modeling for our children.

Practice these four simple steps (see fig. 2.8):

1. Notice your thoughts—Notice your knee-jerk responses by acknowledging your present thoughts. Is your thought a judgment (“Ugh—that sounds horrible!”), worry (“I’ll never get the stain out”), or criticism (“How could he be so . . .”)? Notice the thought and name it “judgment,” “worry,” “criticism,” or whatever other label fits best.

2. Notice your feelings—How do your present thoughts and narratives about the situation affect your feelings about what’s going on?

3. Accept that it’s already done—We can’t change the fact that paint spilled, so why resist it? Try telling yourself, “It’s already done. It’s okay.” Or “It’s already in the past. We can deal with it.”

4. Look for something to savor—Ask yourself: “In the grand scheme of things, how big of a setback is this mishap? Is there anything about this moment that I can appreciate? Might I someday look back on this and smile or laugh? Could this be a good story to tell?”

2.8 Shift from worry and judgment to acceptance and savoring

Try not to be discouraged if you don’t feel blissful each time the violin shrieks, paint flies, or tears fall. Setbacks are an important part of an innovative life, and of parenting. Start by simply aiming to feel slightly less irritated than usual. Work up to letting go a little more. As when strengthening muscles, start lightly with lots of repetitions. Over time, small day-to-day shifts will add up to big changes. Through this creative process, you can build the strength you need for the heavy lifting of parenthood.