The idea for Echoes from a Childâs Soul: Awakening the Moral Imagination of Children was sparked years ago when I had the opportunity to witness children express thoughts and ideas that were deeply empathic and spiritual in nature. These ideas emerged after children were given the time and opportunity to study the lives of the artists and their great works of art. At this time, I was an art teacher, and classroom teachers shared a concern that the children appeared to be âturned offâ to writing. Writing had become a series of generic prompts in order to collect data. It occurred to me that the children may be starving for inspiration. I designed an aesthetic education program for writing and visited several teachers across grade levels once a week for an hour. My only request to the teachers was that there would be neither grades nor judgement. The classroom would be turned into a studio whereby all ideas were accepted. Perhaps the children had something to say to the adults. After all, when do we ever ask children what they think? Children are bombarded daily with the news and social media, and these images and messages fester in their hearts and minds causing stress and anxiety.
I knew right away that the children needed to engage in sensory experiences to build descriptive language in order to understand how important symbols and language were for poets, artists and writers. At the same time, I emphasized to the children that they had something unique to say about their life. They had experiences no one else had and now was the time to release their voices. The studio environment was established as a safe zone. The children knew they had the freedom to share their inner most thoughts. This was a process to establish trust, and that trust built over time. First, one or two children would share their poetic writing, and then the following week more children would ask to share. The most remarkable outcome was the joy on the childrenâs faces when a classmate shared a poem. The children instantly realized there was more to that classmate than they were aware of. New friendships were made in the art and writing studio and bullying stopped. Children that were silent now had a voice, and perhaps more importantly, the children were gaining a new found recognition of who they were. They instinctively loved the freedom to express ideas and choose topics. Words became their clay to sculpt a poem about what they loved, what they feared, and what they hoped for. The possibilities were endless and many children did not want to stop writing.
Unexpectedly, this arts and aesthetics program began to gain recognition as scores increased on writing prompts and more teachers were interested in participating. One administrator wanted to expand the art and writing program for staff development; however, I was not interested in packaging these ideas. I knew there was more to research. The following summer I attended Harvardâs Project Zero institute. This program was an international immersion into the importance of understanding the arts. During this time at Harvard, I was inspired to begin a doctorate to research the moral imagination of children.
What is perhaps very important to point out is the bias I experienced when planning to move from a suburban to an urban district. It was perceived that urban children could not think abstractly through the arts in a poetic fashion. Afterall, in urban schools, many language arts programs were scripted. One administrator said to me, âpoor children need structure.â I was determined to implement my doctorate research in an urban setting. As the art teacher, an action research arts-based study was the best way to expose bias against children. There is bias towards children of color, immigrant children, homeless children, children with incarcerated family members, and any child that is different; that does not fit neatly into the public school structure and socialization. Thus, all labels given children do in fact diminish a childâs sense of self. Why do we say that a child is at-risk; are we not all at-risk? All children have a natural sense for imaginative possibility, and if given the opportunity, their voices will be released as seen in this book. I believe all children are at-promise.
As life goes on, if one is fortunate enough, a messenger comes along to remind you of what is most important and perhaps what one has not yet completed. Fast forward several years later after completing my doctorate and teaching at a state university in elementary teacher preparation, I received an email from a former child, (Emily) that participated in the program described above. Emily, now an adult, was preparing to graduate from a Masters of Fine Arts program in poetry. Emily was trying to contact me to send a poem she created. I was stunned to receive Emilyâs message. As I read each line of her poem, I was overjoyed with Emilyâs profound gift. A few weeks later, Emily and I met at a local diner, and she shared her story from fourth grade, over sixteen years ago. It struck me how little we really know about children and the ways they suffer from interventions, as they go through their daily life at school. I had no idea how unhappy Emily was at age nine. Once again, I knew I had to write about the children I worked with in both urban and suburban school districts in Connecticut and Arizona. It was time. The story of Emily is shared in Chapter 2. Emily is a published poet and is teaching at a university. I want to thank Emily for her inspiration.
Currently, I teach and observe elementary teacher candidates in local urban schools and see first-hand what curriculum mandates, due to Common Core standards and testing, has done to both teachers and children. Some may find it harsh to describe public school as a âdead sea of dreary habit,â yet if one visits a school at any time of the day you will see childrenâs heads on their desks, tired and frustrated. Many immigrant children, brilliant children learning two languages, are judged and evaluated unfairly and ultimately labeled less than; as the wheels of testing keep churning, publishing companies continue to haul in profits.
All the children represented in this text experienced a type of metamorphosis as their inner world was revealed to be empathic towards others and full of hope to survive in a harsh world. The more they related to the characters in the paintings, both intrapersonal and interpersonal awareness evolved as descriptive and figurative language increased. More importantly, the children began to see themselves and others in new ways while gaining confidence as writers. They had important messages for adults; to love now, for your loved one may not be around tomorrow, to forgive, and not judge one another. I believe these messages, formed within the innocent soul of the child, not yet hardened, must be dignified and held within our hearts in order to sincerely and thoughtfully examine what is critical for our children in Americaâs public schools. We cannot risk losing one more child.
The arts are more marginalized than ever before. Curriculum is scripted and the democratic arena of education promoting freedom of ideas and possibilities diminished. Preventing the integration of the arts and aesthetics within curriculum is excluding pathways for children to learn. Each and every child is unique and comes to school with different experiences. Why are we not cherishing what each child has to offer? All school curricula must be examined and questioned, after all, what is the purpose of a democratic education? The human life thrives with love, hope, and forgiveness. The childrenâs voices are telling us that in the following pages.
Lastly, while writing this book, I realized that life is indeed full of many mysteries. The human experience plays out each day in our public schools. Our schools are hubs of emotions released from children as they go from class to class learning about a variety of subjects and skills mandated for the tests. Yet, these emotions are largely ignored due to the fast pace of curriculum directives. Children are ultimately sorted, labeled, passed on, or worse ignored. They become invisible in the hectic schedule of deadlines and testing. If one pauses and considers that perhaps our work with children each day is holy work, we are definitely going in the wrong direction. What is more significant than nurturing a childâs soul, their heart, and their mind? A childâs world is sensitive and malleable. A harsh world with harsh words and labels slowly diminishes a childâs light and imagination.
One mystery I have reflected on while writing this book, is the shared aesthetic experience between the artist, Vincent van Gogh, and nine-year-old children viewing his painting. Vincent van Gogh was praying for hope as he looked up to the starry night and was inspired to paint a message for others. Vincentâs painting, The Starry Night (1889), carried a message to children in two local urban and suburban schools in 1998 and again in 2004, whispering love and consolation. The interaction between the children and The Starry Night painting was profound, as if Vincentâs spirit was present. I believe the masterpiece emanated the message of hope that transcended time and place. The children felt that message deeply and portrayed empathy for Vincent and hope for all within their poems. Over one hundred years after Vincent painted, The Starry Night, his gift to future generations was realized by nine-year-old children. Now their poems carry that gift in a new way. This is one example of the power of the arts and aesthetics; touching the human experience in the most personal and spiritual way. We begin to see one another in new ways, we begin to hope with one another, we begin to love one another, and new possibilities emerge of what could be in our lives. Donât children deserve these experiences in their daily school life? Perhaps then children would be empowered or at the very least be happy to go to school.
Children are our messengers for the 21st century. We must begin to see and hear them in new ways. We have to go back to our 20th century ideas and look at the whole child once again, lest we lose our children completely to mass media and marketing, in which their minds become numb. Moral imagination and love for each other ceases to exist. As humans we were created to create, to love, and to grow; why then are these ideals excluded in our public schools?
One final note is in regard to the Epilogue (see Chapter 7). In 2014, during a research sabbatical, I traveled to Ireland to the remote Aran Island of Inis Mòr. I was curious to learn more about my Irish ancestors and the Celtic imagination. When first meeting the island children, I knew that this community was raising their children in the most distinct and compassionate way. The Irish childrenâs imaginative and instantaneous style to express ideas made me wonder what we have lost here in America. I have returned to Inis Mòr over the past five years with my colleague Dr. James French to study these ideas of arts and aesthetics deeply ingrained in the daily island life and culture. More research is to come.
For now, let us all pray for our children, for those we have lost to gun violence, abuse and neglect, both at home and throughout the world. And may the words of the children within this book weave a tapestry of love around your heart in hopes that all children discover what they are truly capable of, so that their dreams come full circle.