We Were Creators Once, and Free

“Every child is an artist; the problem is staying an artist when you grow up.” – Pablo Picasso

Jimmy pursed his lips and cocked his head to one side, daubing just a splash more color. There, just right. Painting was fun. Maybe even more fun than recess. High praise from a third grader. He leaned back, admiring the way the browns and the reds blended together. He imagined the horse—his very own creation—galloping right off the page, muscles rippling and mane flowing in the wind. Maybe next week he would try a leopard; those were awesome.

“What is that?”

Jimmy jerked his head around, feeling strangely guilty.

A gap-toothed, freckled face appeared over his shoulder. Bobby. Ugh. He’d rather face a leopard.

He tried to smile. “Hi, Bobby. It’s a horse, he’s—”

Bobby interrupted, smirking. “It looks like a bear. A big, dumb bear with long hair.”

Jimmy felt his face grow warm. Whatever. He didn’t care what Bobby thought. Bobby looked like a big dumb bear with long hair. He turned back to his painting, intent on ignoring Bobby, but then Miss Mortenson turned toward them, her black raven’s eyes glinting.

“Robert, that’s enough. Apologize to Jimmy.”

“Sorry,” Bobby mumbled.

Miss Mortenson’s pointed eyebrows lifted. “Even if it does look like a bear with long hair.”

The class roared with laughter, just as the bell rang.

That was the last time Jimmy picked up a paintbrush.

The story of Jimmy is fiction, but it’s no less real, because it’s a story many of us can relate to, often with quite painful memories. Author and researcher Brené Brown, in her highly regarded work interviewing people who have experienced shame, discovered that a third of them could quickly bring to mind a “creativity scar,” a specific memory when they were told that they weren’t talented as musicians, artists, writers, singers, or creators.

Like Jimmy, when a child loses this natural creative confidence, the consequences can be profound. Not only are paintbrushes, pens, and instruments discarded without further attempts, but core identities are cemented and calcified in these formative events, causing people to self-identity as being “not a creative type.”

And the sad part?

We forget that we were all creators once, and free to imagine, draw, experiment, and dream. We didn’t have to work at it; it just came naturally to us, because that is how our Creator created us to live.

But when we encounter this Childhood Creative Scar it can too often turn into a Childhood Creative Block that we carry with us throughout our lives. As we get older, we forget that it is not that we are not creative, but we have made the choice to opt out of being creative. And when we opt out of being creative, we opt out of the natural life-giving vitality that inspired us as children.

Childhood Creative Scars often come from those close to us who are well-intentioned. In an attempt to guide children to “suitable occupations,” parents, teachers, and counselors often steer children away from the arts and other creative pursuits in order to find sensible and well-paying future employment.

As the holder of multiple master’s degrees, an MBA, numerous professional certifications and designations, and years of business experience hiring and recruiting, I know first-hand that this vocational guidance is often prudent, but when we choose for others, especially children, and rule out creative pursuits that interest them, we may unintentionally short-circuit the very creative outlet that God has called them to master.

Positive encouragement to certain “sensible” pursuits is a good thing, but there is wisdom to refraining from anything negative or limiting that could be construed as “you’ll never be good at this; you should just quit now” because after all, we can all practice to improve ourselves, and we can all do more than one thing!