Frank Thoms, Teacher in the Rye

(1) use enough clay to fit in one hand; (2) do not make a recognizable object, such as a cup and saucer; (3) create an abstract shape with at least one hole.

A series of remarkable sculptures emerged, which led to one student’s discovery to dampen them and rub with polished rocks to create a faux glaze; children rubbed them to take a break and while listening to stories in the carpet area, unwittingly, a way to build meditation practice into the classroom.

I displayed their grey abstracted figures on red velvet as a mini-sculpture garden. Sarah, who was in the class, wrote to me many years later:

Molding clay by hand. Polishing it with smooth stones. This was one of my favorite things to do. Through this, I discovered that there isn’t any right and wrong, when it comes to art, it’s how it feels, sounds, smells, looks. It’s all about what’s pleasing to you. It also helped define who I am. I look at life as an ever changing piece of clay. I find beauties in gifts Mother Nature gives us. I create works of art that please my soul.

I did not recognize at the time that Sarah captured the essence of who we were. We, teachers and children, stayed open not to judge, to take in all the senses when considering the value of an activity, of relationships. We wanted children to feel pleasure in whatever they chose. We provided openings for them to consider who they were becoming. To see their lives as ever-changing and accepting it. To see the gifts bestowed on all of us. And create to please our deepest selves.

How wise are our students. Often (hopefully), we stop and pay attention. Even if it’s years later.