The Innovative Parent. Erica Curtis

      • Help them get specific—“I don’t like it” or “I messed up” is too general to address a problem effectively. Helping children hone in on the specific part they don’t like can reveal that the problem isn’t as big as their brain makes it seem. This can make problem solving and coping with difficult feelings much easier.

      • Problem-solve together—Invite your child to problem-solve with you or a peer: “Let’s take a look together. You say you don’t like this part here? What do you think it needs so that you’ll like it better? Should we ask someone else for input?” Soliciting support from others may not only help in the moment but also impart a skill that will serve your children when dealing with other problems in life.

      • Explore options (see fig. 2.6)—If your child has no idea how to proceed, you might offer some suggestions:

      • “Would you like me [or someone else] to help fix it?”

      • “Would you like to start over?”

      • “Do you want to take a break from this for a little while?”

      • “Should we turn this into something completely new and different?!”

      • Admit you’re stuck, too—If you don’t know how to help, or your child has rejected all of your ideas, it’s okay to say “I’m not sure how to help, but I really want to.” Acknowledging that you’re also stuck can normalize the child’s experience and show that it’s okay not to know what to do sometimes.

      2.6 Explore options for addressing mistakes

       When scribbles strike (it may not be what you think)

      A child is drawing happily when she suddenly begins to scribble over her drawing. The grown-up cries, “Oh no! Don’t scribble over it! It looked so pretty. Why did you ruin it?” The child replies, “I don’t know.” But she does.

      Let’s rewind and redo.

      A child is drawing happily when she suddenly begins to scribble over her drawing. The grown-up calmly notes, “Wow. I see a lot going on with that drawing. I wonder if you can tell me about it.” The child takes a deep breath and begins talking animatedly, “Well, there was a mermaid and a dolphin and they were swimming in the ocean and then this giant wave came splashing over them and they were riding in the wave and . . .”

      She hasn’t destroyed the drawing. She is bringing it to life.

      Certainly, there will be times when your child will scribble, scrunch, or rip when upset or frustrated. And yet other times what looks like destruction isn’t destruction at all. Young children will “scribble” over their drawings because they are doing their version of coloring it in. Slightly older children will scribble over their drawings or smoosh a sculpture as part of a story they’ve created in their imagination, as in the example above. At other times, a child may simply be inspired to change directions midstream. So, how do we know the difference?

      Ask.

      Rather than assuming something is wrong when scribbles and smooshes strike, approach your child with curiosity (see fig. 2.7):

      1. Look for nonverbal clues—Your child may appear energized or animated, but does he look angry or frustrated?

      2. Make nonjudgmental observations—“You’re ruining your beautiful art” is not an observation. It is a judgment about the art (it’s beautiful) and what you see happening to it (it’s getting ruined). An observation is a neutral description of what you actually observe: “I see you covering the whole page with red paint” or “I see you ripping up your paper.” Judgmental statements tend to stifle creativity, self-expression, and communication, while provoking resistance (“But I want to scribble on my art”) or resentment (“They don’t get it”). (For more about making nonjudgmental observations and preventing resistance, turn to appendix 1: “Guidelines for Talking about Art and Life” and chapter 4: “Connect First.”)

      3. Invite more discussion—“I wonder what made you decide to do that?” or simply “I wonder if you can tell me about that?” are open-ended ways to encourage your child to share more about her intention. “I wonder” invites dialogue in a nonthreatening way, as it suggests that conclusions have not been reached.

      2.7 Remove judgment and approach with curiosity

       Guns, bombs, and other pictures we can’t stand

      I cautiously enter my son’s room. I have just gotten frustrated with him and he with me. He doesn’t look up. I notice he is drawing a picture of a figure holding a gun. I begin to talk to him about what just transpired. I’m not sure if he’s listening. His only response is, “Uh huh. Uh huh.” He draws another figure—the target of a bullet flying out of the gun. I know he’s angry with me. I pause but continue. I acknowledge his anger and admit that I could have handled the situation better. He says nothing, but gives the targeted figure a hefty shield. I explain the reason for my frustration and tell him I love him. He adds a spaceship with two smiling figures inside. I ask him about his drawing. He says that he is fighting a bad guy, and then we escape together. He says he is sorry for what happened.

      A lot of concern about angry, violent, and aggressive imagery comes from our fear of real violence. Although the National Center for Education Statistics reveals that school violence has actually decreased since the early 1990s (Musu-Gillette et al. 2018), tragic incidents like the 2012 shooting at Sandy Hook Elementary School, where twenty children and six adults were killed, and the 2018 shooting at Marjory Stoneman Douglas High School in Parkland, Florida, where fourteen students and three adults were killed, raise very real concerns. Adults are quick to respond to violent imagery and words with discouraging statements like “That’s not nice” or “That’s not appropriate.” In some cases, children have been suspended from school or parents have been punished over the drawing of a gun. The American Psychological Association Zero Tolerance Task Force (2008) found that such punishment typically associated with “zero tolerance” policies is ineffective at reducing actual incidence of misbehavior, yet we misguidedly continue to respond nonconstructively to aggressive art in the hope of deterring actual threat.

      Destructive or aggressive art often represents a healthy expression of children’s feelings and may even prevent the likelihood of actual violence. A music therapist might invite a child to write lyrics that express angry feelings. An art therapist might encourage a teen to express his upset toward someone in imagery as a substitute for bottling it up or acting on those feelings. One teen I worked with spontaneously drew futuristic spaceships firing guns. Seeing this as an opening to communicate about his emotional world, I asked him at whom the ships were firing. He responded by adding a math book and a dismembered math teacher floating in space. Far from an actual threat, his drawing was an expression of frustration toward the academic subject. By showing curiosity in his drawing and permitting the spontaneous violent imagery to emerge, I created an opportunity for a heartfelt conversation about his struggles.

      While aggressive art can communicate something that is bothering a child, at other times it signifies a normal developmental curiosity about power, good guys versus bad guys, or exposure to weapons through media. When my young son bites his pancake into the shape of a gun, he’s not necessarily angry. When my daughter draws herself with a magical sword, she isn’t necessarily expressing violent inclinations. At times they are simply fascinated, like many kids their age, by themes of conflict and power. Through make-believe games and art they are able to explore these ideas safely, at least in contexts where