A little background...I am firmly in the play-based and developmental category of early childhood educators so process art is something that happens a lot in my classroom. Over the years I've reflected a lot on how to better support the children's creative process, letting them freely explore and experiment with open-ended materials without an expected outcome. This isn't always easy to do. I can say that I value exploration and the process of "messing about," but children will often surprise us with the way they use materials and test limits teachers didn't even know they had. Here is a story...
There was a three year old we will call Nate. Over weeks and weeks, Nate chose to go to the art table to work with glue, paper, and other craft materials. Glue was the common denominator. He would turn a bottle of Elmer's upside down over paper and squeeze out the viscous glue, in lines and in puddles. He would carefully place pieces of paper on top of his glue. After a time, he started using glitter with his glue. Day in and day out, Nate practiced using glue.
I observed how Nate worked with glue and noticed how it evolved over time. I saw complexity emerging in his art as he put together what he was learning from all that hands-on experience. Then one day, I watched as he assumed the usual position of holding the Elmer's bottle upside down over paper and squeezed...for a very long time.
The glue puddle on his paper got larger and larger. I wondered to myself when he would stop and what he would then use to collage on top of it. Nate did not stop. The puddle got even larger, nearly spreading to the edges of the paper. I moved closer to his table and watched. I felt myself feeling anxious. Finally, I asked Nate, "What will you stick on top of your glue?"
He looked at me like I had it all wrong. "Nothing!" he said.
I tried to engage him in conversation about using glue to stick things to, but clearly that was not his goal (and it was something he already knew). It was hard for him to explain his why to me, but I gathered that he was most interested in the way the glue traveled out of the bottle and appeared on the paper more than anything else.
In that moment, I knew that I had step back and let him continue on in his process.
I told this story to an audience of educators when I delivered a presentation on messy play. I shared that watching Nate use all that glue that day was very stressful. I was brought up to not be wasteful, so part of me was uncomfortable with how much glue was being used. This struck a chord with many. Many of us have strict budgets for precious supplies and some of us felt that the more important lesson was to teach about using materials with intention. The thing is, Nate was using glue with intention. His intention.
After that day, Nate continued to work with glue but he didn't repeat his giant glue puddle. He returned to collaging, pasting materials to his glue. After a while longer, Nate moved on to other interests.
In reflection, I wonder if I inadvertently sidetracked Nate in his quest to be the ultimate glue master by simply suggesting that there was one purpose for using glue. Our words and actions have great impact, so we must consider the messages they send. Do we convey that we trust how children explore? Do our messages say we value creativity and innovation? Do our words and actions align with our process-driven approach? Are we preparing children for the adulthood we have, or are we preparing them for theirs?
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