Two Boys

Posted on January 3rd, 2010 by Maya Christina

There are moments that stand out when I visit schools. Moments that stick with me and become part of my stories. There are a number of kids through the years that have never left my side. I can see them still, remember our interactions. I imagine many must be grown up now and I wonder how they’re doing. They’re the ones that remind me the most of myself. Their lesson my lesson, my lesson their lesson. They reflect some aspect of my own experience although it’s not always obvious to me at first.

When I go into schools these days I don’t often get to work with the kids closely. Things are far more assembly oriented now, but any time there’s a chance I still try to make art with kids. Although now it’s not in a classroom but a cafeteria or library, and I’ve got 200 kids instead of 30. It’s definitely a different kind of interaction. But within the parameters I still try to get some of my message across and be fully present with the kids. I know there’s something I understand about being a kid and being stressed out on many different levels. Art served as a great tool for me as a stressed out kid and now I’m old enough to talk about it. What is important to share about art and creativity to me is how it can support kid’s understanding of how to use it as a tool. A tool to process their experiences, create personal reflection and know and empower themselves. When I do get to work with kids, the projects are geared to ground my philosophies which are rooted in my experience as a bi-racial, child of color dealing with a number of serious stressors.

I only have a few moments to provide an opportunity to use art like this so the projects have to be simple and fertile. In these assembly settings I have a current, favorite project. I ask the kids to draw a picture of their self. There are only two requirements. Completely forget you know what you look like and share something about yourself that I cannot see by looking at you. I ask them a few questions to explore what we cannot see when we look at someone. Can you tell who I love by looking at me? Can you tell what scares me? Makes me angry? Where I came from? In my imagination I have huge deer horns. I can feel them, can you see them? I tell them since they don’t know what they look like, they can draw themselves in absolutely any way they want. Perhaps they feel like a cat most of the time? I know as a kid I did for a period of time.

With my three rules as a back drop, kids are given permission to explore and are freed from judgment to know and be present with themselves and their experience. I see a lot of pretty kitties and monsters, but I also see a lot of profoundly singular, simple and articulate portraits of kids expressing their whole self. I notice that the more stressed out a kid is, the more visible the power of the projects is.
But I see the project affect all of the kids in some way. Since I almost exclusively work with children of color these projects are especially valuable to them. Being a person of color in our current culture is a built in stress if not because of personal, direct racism, then in relation to institutionalized racism and a lack of representation.

I recently visited a school in San Jose. For one assembly 150-180 4th and 5th graders gathered in the cafeteria. Toward the end I had them get out paper and pencil and do the above exercise. I absolutely love seeing a ton of kids all drawing themselves at the same time. It’s like I can see creativity moving through everyone. I stop and sit with as many kids as I can and I try to see every drawing as its being made. I also make myself available for kids to talk with me. I sit down next to them as much as possible and just am quiet and look at their work for a moment. Often art expresses what can’t be spoken.

At the end of this assembly two boys came up to me and handed me their drawings. They wanted me to have them. I looked at them closely and told them thank you, they would probably end up on the wall in my studio. I told them both to keep drawing. These were very important drawings. They both acted shy and left. The drawings were amazing. In one the boy has a very powerful look on his face. In my imagination he actually looks terrified. In the other drawing there are very large tears and what appears to be either a rocket or a bomb in the boy’s stomach. Later I showed the drawings to the person who invited me here. She knew the boys and knew that both of them were having a very hard time at school in many ways. I asked if it was in English or both English and Spanish. She said both. As she looked at the drawings she said it seemed that the boys really understood the project. “Yeah,” I laughed a bit and shook my head with a feeling of recognition and respect. I remembered their faces and how brave they acted as they brought me their art.