Food For Thought
When I was in the seventh grade, I was in an art class that I just loved. It was one of the only classes that I looked forward to going to. We did a lot of fun things like make puppets and put on a puppet show for the kindergarden classes, and make pottery.
Mid-way through the quarter, my art teacher informed me that I had no artistic ability whatsoever. That I shouldn't taken anymore art classes with her because I had no talent. It broke my heart. I cried for days.
It wasn't until my senior year of high school that I took another art class, and that was in order to get out of drama class because I hated acting/talking in front of groups of people. I didn't enjoy the class for a long time because I knew I had no talent (because that's what the old wise teacher told me when I was younger) and was probably going to fail. Then we started the painting section. And I fell in love with painting. I got a B in the class, but for the longest time I believed that it was because my teacher felt sorry for me because my art wasn't as good as anyone else's. I was the worst artist in the class in my own eyes. All because of some hurtful words of discouragement.
I took a painting class in college that I loved and am pretty proud of some of the pieces I did. I got a C- in that class. I don't claim to be a great fantastic artist. I took the class to get me through a time of emotional hell and it truly helped me deal with what I was going through. I think that's why a lot of people choose art and writing to express themselves.
I wrote my first story when I was in fifth grade. It was 24 pages long, and I was so proud of myself for it. I was the only kid I knew that had written something 24 pages voluntarily and had FUN doing it. I read it now and I laugh. It's -horrible-. I mean, really, really horrible. But let's face it, how many of us start out and paint something worthy of Van Gogh, or write something as wonderful as Shakespeare or Bronte?
While I think people may be born with a certain natural flair or affinity for something, it takes practice to make it better. Lots of practice. And encouragement. God knows that if one of my English teachers had read something I'd written and said, "This is horrible. You need to find something else to occupy your time and quit writing because you have no talent," I undoubtedly would have quit that the same way I did with art. And if I had quit writing, I would not be here right now. I would have killed myself long ago.
When someone tells you that you are talentless, or that something you've painted or drawn or written is horrible, it's not just mean (though it is definitely that). It has this tendency to break your spirit.
I'll use my 11 year old nephew for example. Nick loves to write and draw. He wants to write and design his own comic books someday. I think this is awesome. I do everything I can to encourage him on this path, even if later he decides it's not what he wants. He's written a few stories, and while they're obviously not the best stories I've read, I make it a point to tell him that I think they're great.
I'll comment on the things he's done really well and not mention the other stuff. He's a kid, he's just starting to write. He'll learn on his own, the same way that I did. He doesn't need me to tell him that "Oh, you didn't use a comma there, and you need to paragraph this another way, and that's not in character for this person," etc. He needs to hear that I'm proud of him and that he has talent and to keep writing.
I don't want to be like that art teacher of mine in seventh grade. Ever.
I don't want to be a person who breaks someone's hope and love for something even if they might not be great at it. Maybe they never will be. But maybe, just maybe if they're given the right encouragement and they practice...well...who knows? They might end up being the next Stephen King or J.K. Rowling.
