The power of influence

While I was babysitting a little girl, I realised once again what influence we as adults have on children.  While we were playing, she wanted to do some colouring in.  First she showed me a picture that her other babysitter coloured in for her; then she wanted me to colour in a picture for her.  I do not mind colouring in at all, but something got me thinking.  Why is she asking everyone else to colour in her pictures, and why does she not try it for herself?  Fair enough she is only 3 years old, and can probably not colour in like I can, but I thought she should give it a go.
Only then did I realise why she did not want to do it.  She was scared of going over the lines.  As a 3 year old that would be inevitable.

Turns out her teacher is somewhat strict
when it comes to art.  So I took the page and went crazy with the crayon, making marks all over the page and even made a hole or two in the page while colouring in.  I made sounds of enjoyment and was looking very happy doing this.  Slowly the little girl joined me in this new way of colouring in.  In the end we had a beautiful picture, with a lot of colours all over the page and peepholes everywhere to see the light through.  So maybe the end product did not look perfect, but we sure had fun doing it.  I also told her that when she was with me she can have fun drawing and colouring in, and that we do not have to stay inside the lines.  I realised that we sometimes unknowingly and unintentionally discourage children to be creative.  Children express themselves through art and this helps them to develop as a person.  If we tell them exactly what to do, they are not expressing themselves, and they will not develop like they should.
Some interesting facts:

• Children experience intellectual growth when they stimulate different and original ways of thinking and solving problems, while being creative.  
• Creativity also promotes independence in children.

As I was going through my study material for next week's exam I came across this poem, and I had to share it with you.  It says it all... enjoy!


The little boy 
Once a little boy went to school.
He was quite a little boy
And it was quite a big school.
But when the little boy
Found that he could go to his room
By walking right in from the door outside
He was happy;
And the school did not seem
Quite so big anymore.

One morning
When the little boy had been in school awhile,
The teacher said:
"Today we are going to make a picture."
"Good!" thought the little boy.
He liked to make all kinds;
Lions and tigers,
Chickens and cows,
Trains and boats;
And he took out his box of crayons
And began to draw.

But the teacher said, "Wait!"
"It is not time to begin!"
And she waited until everyone looked ready.
"Now," said the teacher,
"We are going to make flowers."
"Good!" thought the little boy,
He liked to make beautiful ones
With his pink and orange and blue crayons.
But the teacher said "Wait!"
"And I will show you how."
And it was red, with a green stem.
"There," said the teacher,
"Now you may begin."

The little boy looked at his teacher's flower
Then he looked at his own flower.
He liked his flower better than the teacher's
But he did not say this.
He just turned his paper over,
And made a flower like the teacher's.
It was red, with a green stem.

On another day
When the little boy had opened
The door from the outside all by himself,
The teacher said:
"Today we are going to make something with clay."
"Good!" thought the little boy;
He liked clay.
He could make all kinds of things with clay:
Snakes and snowmen,
Elephants and mice,
Cars and trucks
And he began to pull and pinch
His ball of clay.

But the teacher said, "Wait!"
"It is not time to begin!"
And she waited until everyone looked ready.
"Now," said the teacher,
"We are going to make a dish."
"Good!" thought the little boy,
He liked to make dishes.
And he began to make some
That were all shapes and sizes.

But the teacher said "Wait!"
"And I will show you how."
And she showed everyone how to make
One deep dish.
"There," said the teacher,
"Now you may begin."

The little boy looked at the teacher's dish;
Then he looked at his own.
He liked his better than the teacher's
But he did not say this.
He just rolled his clay into a big ball again
And made a dish like the teacher's.
It was a deep dish.

And pretty soon
The little boy learned to wait,
And to watch
And to make things just like the teacher.
And pretty soon
He didn't make things of his own anymore.

Then it happened
That the little boy and his family
Moved to another house,
In another city,
And the little boy
Had to go to another school.
This school was even bigger
Than the other one.
And there was no door from the outside
Into his room.
He had to go up some big steps
And walk down a long hall
To get to his room.
And the very first day
He was there,
The teacher said:
"Today we are going to make a picture."
"Good!" thought the little boy.
And he waited for the teacher
To tell what to do.
But the teacher didn't say anything.
She just walked around the room.

When she came to the little boy
She asked, "Don't you want to make a picture?"
"Yes," said the lttle boy.
"What are we going to make?"
"I don't know until you make it," said the teacher.
"How shall I make it?" asked the little boy.
"Why, anyway you like," said the teacher.
"And any color?" asked the little boy.
"Any color," said the teacher.
"If everyone made the same picture,
And used the same colors,
How would I know who made what,
And which was which?"
"I don't know," said the little boy.
.And he began to make pink and orange and blue flowers.

He liked his new school,
Even if it didn't have a door
Right in from the outside!

This poem is written by Helen  Buckley