Creating Beauty

The one experience that has stayed with me through all my years of working with kids happened at the beginning of my teaching career, and set the tone for my work and my mission. Working with the Missoula Youth Homes, I had to find art projects we could complete in a single class, because the kids were in transition--to or from rehab, foster care, juvenile corrections. The ones I saw one week were seldom the same mix I'd see the next. One chance only to capture whatever we could of value.

My favorite art lesson was abstract painting--find a photo of something with interesting elements---lines, colors, contrast, whatever---and use a small black cardboard with a square opening to crop it so it's not recognizable. Then transfer what you see in the square opening onto a panel and paint it. Make it the same color or different ones. The funnest part was at the end, when each student would show her work, we'd critique it for aesthetics, then she'd reveal what the original image was.

Ashley (no, not her real name, of course) was with us for the first time, and had no intention of doing "that art sh*t." But when she saw we weren't going to stop urging her on, she rolled her eyes, snatched up a magazine, and went off to a corner to start her project. As we all worked, she flatly refused to let us see what she was working on. She'd hold her hand over her panel every time I came around.

Quietly she worked for two hours, forgetting to complain, and even skipping her bathroom break. At the end of two hours, we cleaned, and then the 12 kids propped their acrylic paintings against the far wall. We broke out the cookies and juice, took our seats, and began.

From the first look, Ashley's stood out. The colors---cool wet blues, grays, and whites. Rich curves and shiny textures. It was stunning. We saved hers for last. She got up, tough as nails, and started to tell us about her work. After several false starts, it became apparent that she was having some kind of emotional response, and couldn't talk. Very uncomfortable silence. The other kids busily picked their cuticles, gnawed knuckles, pulled at loose threads on their hoodies--anything to keep from watching Ashley's quiet little meltdown.

"Ash, just a sentence, OK? Can you do that?" I asked.

Deep breath, a quavery start, then Ashley blurts out, "I never made anything beautiful before." Weak little laugh. She had us. Then she holds up the original image---a full page ad for a designer toilet. She had cropped it just at the bottom curve where light reflected on the enamel and metal surface. Nice way to break the tension. The metaphor of the toilet becoming a lovely thing was not lost on any of us, least of all Ashley.

That was the only time I ever saw her. She is, God willing, somewhere safe and nurturing. Maybe she's a mom, and takes better care of her kids than her mom took of her. Maybe she has her painting hanging on a wall in a worthy frame. Maybe, just maybe, she's an artist somewhere.

I know there's a good chance Ashley is on the streets creating something less beautiful than art or healthy kids. But it stays with me, that golden day in that shabby little room, and I wonder how many kids are absolutely sure they've never created something beautiful, or don't even believe they have it in them?

Studies show that by the time they're 9 years old, most girls with unusual talents, gifts, or intellect are already desperately trying to hide their differences. Such giftedness is so often accompanied by things that look negative in a regular setting--ADD/ADHD, divergent thinking patterns, visual/spatial learning styles or processing--that most gifted girls are never even evaluated, much less identified, understood, or nurtured. They're just too "weird" for most schools, and they tend to be "spacy" or "dreamy." Many--as much as 35%--become angry, close down, and start a long unhappy school career of driving everyone around them nuts.

SO there's the long version of our new venture: we have started the Girls Residence for Arts and Creative Education (Grace House, for short). We'll be serving girls like Ashley whose intellectual or creative gifts have been largely unidentified and lost in the mix of their other characteristics and behaviors. If you'd like to know more, please visit our website: http://gracehousearts.com/