my artists

today was the students and my first day back to school. it felt good to be back and see all of my students again. my students feel safe at school and had looks of relief to return to something expected and normal.

once a month a retired teacher comes into my classroom for masterpiece art. she teaches the students about certain art techniques and about the lives of famous artists. then the students have the opportunity to create their own masterpiece. she always incorporates music as well. it is one of my favorite activities all month. i sit with the students at their desks and create my own masterpiece. when i create something i feel the most whole. it is one of the few times in the day when i can truly sit down and just be. i am not walking around the room to make sure someone gets help, nor concerned about behavior. i sit and create as one with my students.

today the students listened to vivaldi's four seasons and classified famous pieces of art under headings of winter, spring, summer, fall. there are no right answers in masterpiece art. you feel. you listen. you respond. my students and i relax into a space where we are not forced to fill in bubbles or be right.

it takes the students a little while to feel okay in this space. they are so used to having to be right that they tentatively answer any question with the thought, "what if what i say is wrong." it is pure delight when thirty minutes into the activity they begin opening up. their true brilliance shines at the moment when nothing hinders their free thinking. suddenly descriptive language and feeling pours out of them and they surprise themselves. i love watching the transformation. it is what draws me to the classroom-this transformation.

we sat in small groups and drew with oil pastels and colored pencils our own landscapes. i drew an abstract windy, fall day. as i smudged the colors together with my index finger, i thought about how definitive school can be. no smudging lines here. yet, the very life force of these young people can not be simplified into straight, perfect lines. i felt proud of my students because they constantly struggle against the need to be closed. it is about survival. their own landscapes are sometimes bitterly scarred and much older than their nine and ten year old selves. yet they stretch and push themselves to live into the bitterness and come out on the other side.

i have rarely been more blessed than in the presence of these artists.