Last Friday, I was teaching a semi-private after-school art class. It was the last day of term, and with Easter fast approaching, you might have expected a holiday-themed class. Had I planned one? No. But did the Easter Bunny sneak its way into the session? It sure did.
Here’s what happened…
If you’re familiar with our mahi, you’ll know that all our classes focus on the creative process over the perfect final end result. Instead of following step-by-step instructions, we invite the children to play, experiment and take risks.
In that spirit, each class offers multiple invitations to create using a range of art materials. While there often is a prompt to ponder on, or some visual inspiration, the tamariki never need much to come up with ideas. And trust me, they never need a theme.
But back to this this particular class. The two young creatives were invited to work on their art journals (the prompt this time: “Imagine yourself in the future… What is something you would like to do or achieve?”), create a paper-shape sculpture, and craft some 3D-art out of Styrofoam, beads, tape and pipe cleaners.
Now, one of the two artists is currently OBSESSED with the Easter bunny. I’m not exaggerating. As soon as I had walked in the door, S. asked whether we were making Easter Bunnies today. “If that’s what you want to make, of course you can make that”, I said. Her brother, on the other hand, could not understand her fascination with the fluffy creature. He honestly couldn’t care less!
Imagine an Easter Bunny-themed art class: Decorating bunny ears, making a bunny sculpture, drawing a whole Easter Bunny family. Our Easter Bunny lover would have been in her element, right? But what about her brother, who has a deep fascination for owls and snakes instead? You guessed it: if he’d been told to create a bunny, he might have lost interest in art within minutes.
But I hadn’t planned an Easter-themed class. I had brought with me creative tools and resources for our young artists to make whatever they wanted. And I repeat, whatever they wanted – because I can’t stress that enough.
Without strict guidelines, only trust and respect for each child’s unique ideas, they both had the opportunity to express themselves in a way that truly mattered to them. And by doing so, each child discovered a personal language of creativity, a language that celebrated their uniqueness.
As S. navigated this creative challenge with resourcefulness, she embodied the essence of what Imagine Play Inspire stands for: allowing every child to explore, imagine, and innovate using the materials at hand.
This experience reminds me of the heart of our approach: when children are free to choose their own path, they not only build the technical skills needed to succeed but also develop critical thinking and a strong sense of autonomy.
Consider the contrast between the two young artists… Had we imposed a single narrative, one of their voices might have been lost. Instead, we witnessed a beautiful, natural celebration of diverse ideas and expressions.
This truly is a celebration of choice in art. It’s a gentle reminder that sometimes (ahem, often?!) the best art isn’t born from strict guidelines or specific themes; it comes from playful exploration and the freedom to take risks and make mistakes.
By embracing their unique interests – whether bunny, owl, or snake – we, as parents, educators, and facilitators, learn that our role is simply to provide a creative playground, the tools, and the unconditional trust that every imaginative mind deserves. It is this trust that sparks a lifelong love for learning, and for art. ❤️
And with that, happy playing and creating,
Franzi x
Imagine Play Inspire 