Consider This a PSA

If you’re a Word Press blogger — and if you’re reading this, there’s a good chance you are — you’ve surely noticed the “daily prompts” that appear on your dashboard. I don’t follow along with the daily prompts since my blog focuses more specifically on the concepts of “art” rather than personal experiences, although, of course, those two topics do intersect. Artistcoveries is a blog about my personal experiences with art, about the crazy idea I had back in 2015 that I would somehow learn to draw. This blog has chronicled my journey with lots of stops and starts from then to now.

So while I do share personal information, the “daily prompts” from Word Press aren’t always applicable to my art journey, and I’ve simply overlooked them in my posting. Recently, though, one caught my attention. It’s been several days ago, and I should have written it down. As it is, I can’t spell it out word for word here, but I can give you the gist of it. The prompt was about “positive influences” in our lives, a bit like those high-school essay assignments where we were asked to “write about the most influential person in your life”.

Could I relate this prompt to art and to my personal experiences? That question quickly came to mind. Perhaps not surprisingly, my first thoughts in response were a few of the artists I’ve met through our art clubs in the area, many of whom have encouraged me and offered helpful suggestions.

I wanted to look back to childhood, though. Was there anyone who, in any way, encouraged my desires to draw and color? Surely someone at some time must have said a few kind words… didn’t they?

No, they didn’t. I have a good memory. I can recall my childhood years. I can remember being very young and watching Jon Gnagy — a television forerunner to Bob Ross — and wanting so much to be able to draw. I remember looking at drawings other children had submitted to Highlights magazine’s art page and wishing that just once I could draw something worth sending in. I remember wanting a big box of crayons — if I couldn’t draw, at least I could color — and being told that nobody needed 64 different colors. And I remember my mother rolling her eyes and scoffing a bit whenever I asked for yet another “how to draw” book. They obviously never did me any good, you see.

I remember the shame — yes, actual embarrassment, humiliation and shame — my family felt when my kindergarten teacher sent home a note that I did “not do well with scissors.” No, of course I didn’t do well. For those who don’t know, I am a product of an older generation when left-handers were forced to switch. Yes, I was always clumsy and awkward as a result. I still am.

I spent a lot of time on this recent morning, searching through all my memories, trying to find even one instance where an “arts” or “crafts” project I attempted was met with even the faintest praise or encouragement. I found nothing. I faced nothing but criticism. It was made quite clear to me growing up that I had no artistic talent, that any attempts at drawing or painting were futile, and that, really, the only thing I was good at was making a mess.

Now, there was one exception to this discouraging artistic upbringing. I did have “color sense”, and because my mother sewed a lot, she did always ask me to help her choose fabrics and colors. Most often, though, she didn’t believe me when I said “Yes, mother, this fabric will match the new skirt you made”. She’d buy the wrong material and then later shake her head and admit that I’d been right all along, so maybe she should have listened to me. That, my friends, was my vindication. That was the one single “artistic talent” or gift that I had, and yes, mother, you should have listened to me!

Why am I writing all of this? Why am I sharing these still very painful memories? Well, as the title of this post says, consider this a PSA — a public service announcement.

Please, don’t ever discourage any child from any attempts to create art. Please, buy that box of crayons, offer to buy how-to-draw books, and please, offer every bit of encouragement and support you can for those crazy, scribbled drawings they give you. Hang those pictures on the wall! Yes, the ones with the stick figures and the animals with misshapen bodies and the trees that are nothing more than straight lines with circles at the tops. Frame them! Show them off!

As an adult, I’ve finally received a bit of the encouragement I wished I’d gotten as a child. Of course, I’ve also received more discouragement, and honestly, it’s as painful to deal with as an adult as it was when I was a child.

I’ve also had the privilege of working at several student art shows, and there are so many talented young artists! Yet there are a lot of questions we should ask ourselves about art, children, and how best to promote creativity. In previous posts, I’ve shared a lot of thoughts, and I’ve pondered a lot of difficult questions.

Should we encourage art as a “competition” with shows and contests where some artists “win” while most “lose”? Is art truly a necessary subject in schools today? If so, how can we ensure that art programs receive funding? How can we encourage more children to take part in art programs?

If you’re interested, you can read these related posts:

Art Matters

Questions on Student Art

Children and Art

If you’ve read all the way to this point, thank you. When I sat down to write, I wasn’t planning on going on at great length. I simply wanted to make a “public service announcement” to remind each of us how important it is to offer words of encouragement, to give praise as much as possible, to provide materials and helpful resources, and to help young artists develop their skills within a supportive environment.

Obviously this is a topic that I feel quite strongly about. Having known so much discouragement in my own attempts to learn art, I recognize it immediately when I see those same thoughts and feelings in student artists. Please, don’t pass by any opportunity you may have to lift a young artist’s spirit, to let them share their dreams, to create lop-sided drawings and wild scribbles filled with childhood passion and excitement.

Thank you.