(copied from www.turnthepage.com)
Dear friends,
“You have to come over here, right now!”
It was Bev calling from the preschool to insist that I come see what the kids had created at the art area. I dropped what I was doing and hustled over. Good thing I only live two minutes away because as I drove up I saw that Bev and six of the children had been sitting out in front of the school watching for me the whole time. As I pulled up I could tell from their excitement that whatever it was, it was going to be good.
“Yea! Come on!”
“Hurry!”
“Come see what we did!”
I followed them into the school and as I turned toward the Art Area I came upon what I can only label as a real masterpiece and, judging from the scale, it obviously involved equal parts inspiration and perspiration. The entire table was covered with color and nearly every possible piece of art material they could lay their hands on. I was at a loss and could only utter, “Wow.” I soon noticed that everyone standing there had begun a slow procession around the table — at times looking, shaking our heads, pointing here and there, and talking about what went on. There were all kinds of colors (I honestly couldn’t tell if it was tempura or liquid water color) and as I looked close I could make out confetti, and plastic springs, feathers, various pieces of colorful wood, and paper — an amazing medley of painting, sculpture and collage.
It wasn’t too long before the kids ran off to pursue other things and I was left standing there with Bev and Lori, the parent who was in charge of the Art Area that morning. I asked Lori if she remembered how it all got started. She told me one of the young boys had accidentally tipped over a small cup of water color. He immediately looked up at her and she could tell from the look in his face that he assumed he had done something wrong.
She grabbed a towel and lay it over the spill. After sopping it up, she held up the towel and said to him, “Well, let’s see how my towel looks, now.”
He looked at the towel and then back down to the table and nonchalantly tipped over another small cup of color. He began spreading the paint out over the table, gradually mixing in more paints until the entire table was awash in color. A group of girls noticed what was going on and asked if they could join in. “No, I’m not finished yet,” he insisted. Every few minutes they would ask, “How about now?” Nearby the adults had already begun clearing off an table for the girls to use. But before things could really get going on the second table, the boy relented, “If you still want to paint here it’s okay now.” Thus began a wholly collaborative effort of transforming the art table into an extravagant work of art. I purposely chose the word “extravagant” to describe the results because, as many of you know, children are “good starters, but not good stoppers” — one of many realities I learned about young children from Bev. This moment could easily have progressed to the point where everything in the school that was not nailed down could have ended up on the table. It took some masterful guidance on Bev’s part to gently rein-in the process without stifling their enthusiasm. “Let’s take a good look at what we’ve done so far.” What ensued from this suggestion was that the children made the subtle passage from “reaction to reflection” — something that is nonexistent in 3 year-olds, rare in 4 year-olds, but magically begins to blossom in 5 year-olds.
“Could it ever be called wasteful if it nourishes the creative spirit and soul of a child?” — Bev Bos
Another of the pithy statements from Bev that has stuck with me, which also fits here is, “children have to use too much.” Experience, whether it entails amounts of effort or materials, has to approach extremes in order for a child to determine in the end what is suitable for them. A mom at the school shared with me that her son painted his entire body after a reading of the children’s book “I Ain’t Gonna Paint No More.” The next day he was content to just dab a little on his wrist. And, after that, it ended. He had sorted out what felt right for him.
To Lori’s credit she decided to leave cleaning the art table until the very last moment. The afternoon class would be coming in just 20 minutes but she knew that this was a moment worth preserving for as long as she could. (I’m sure she wouldn’t mind me adding that this probably would have happened much differently when she was new to the school). Which brings me to a few more of the important phrases that Bev always peppers her parent education moments with, “Will the end of the world come if I let this go?” and “Could a child possibly learn something from this?”
Of course, the answers are “no to the first question and yes to the second.”
This also addresses a notion I fear is shared by a lot people who have never visited this preschool– that it’s “anything goes” here. This is not true at all. It’s frustrating to know that so many share the image of children running helter-skelter, parents and teachers frazzled, chaos reining inside and out — which is simply not the case. A much more accurate description would be; children thoroughly engaged in whatever they have chosen to do, parents observing from the periphery but, at the same time, making sure the children don’t lack for materials or attention, and the teachers sharing their guidance with both children and parents, in an environment alive with a genuine buzz of sound, movement, laughter, discovery and play.
From the September issue of the Educational Leadership Journal comes the following quote attributed to Jean Piaget, “The principle goal of education in the schools should be creating men and women who are capable of doing new things, not simply repeating what other generations have done.”
Had the kids every done this before? Nope. Will I ever witness another tabletop art masterpiece on the order of what happened today? Maybe not.
But, I am sure there will be something equally as remarkable and unpredictable in the days to come — if only we adults can find ways to be supportive of the children, understanding of their idiosyncrasies and curiosities and not so quick to focus on moment-killing, spirit-robbing concerns like, “Well, who cleans up?”
You know what I`ve realized? When we all pitch in it just doesn’t take that long. But what is far-reaching is knowing that as we turned and walked out the door, a half dozen children were taking home a memory of this incredible day that they will remember for a long, long time.
Michael