Self expression is important

I remember my sister and I huddling under a fish tank at my parents house when I was about 4 years old. I remember sounds of glass breaking; my Dad peeling out of the driveway; broken furniture, tea cups and hearts.

My Parents divorced right before I turned 5. I often used to joke with my Mom telling her I remembered little things like that. She would laugh and say, “Eric, your Dad and I never fought like that”. Lol, I would tell her vivid memories that would silence the conversation with facts.

6 months after Dad left, at school I was put in a program with a counselor where I would be assigned to draw how I felt on a weekly basis. It would often involve wonderful crayons that I used to sneak home. I think she knew I was keeping them. My drawings would be random things. Sunshine's, rainy day’s, etc. (Well, back then I am sure it was mostly a bunch of nothing seeing that I had no idea what I was doing) One thing she would always tell me is “Eric, I want you to feel comfortable. If you are happy express that, if you are sad that’s ok too.” This went on for a little over a year. I don’t remember her name, but I wish I could thank her for introducing me to the wonderful world of self expression.

Fast FWD about 5-6 years. My Dad leaving was truly a hard thing for my Family. My Mom was not the best parent; I know she tried but we always seemed to be without. Lights cut off, no food, sometimes no phone. (I guess that’s why God made Man and Woman for each other; to be together as one so life is not as hard) I grew up thinking this was what the world was really about. (Makes you really want to be a part of it)

Once in an English class, probably middle school I was required to write a Christmas story. Everyone was doing the typical stuff; Santa, Christmas tree, etc. I pulled from my imagination and wrote about two kids coming home from school the weekend before the Holidays. They met a man covered in nothing more than newspapers and old boxes. At first, they were scared he might hurt them. But, after a gentle hello they realized he was a normal person going through some hard times. He spoke of how they needed to be happy they were going home to a warm fire and clean clothes; how they would be opening gifts on Christmas with their Families.

The two children thanked the man and rushed home with a better appreciation for the Holidays, etc. The story also followed with a little flip book made out of shoe boxes I had. Poorly illustrated it won an award at my school for creative writing.

I did not understand at the time, and probably not until many years later that I was actually taking events from my own life and using them in for elements in story telling. That, or it was my way as a child to let the world know I was hurting and struggling with my parents divorce and being poor.

With that said, I think it’s more important than anything to learn how to express how you feel. That it be a song, poem, style of dress, art, etc.

Someday when Amanda and I have children I will make sure to sit down with (insert name) and ask them how their day was; maybe we can break out some crayons and draw what the day was like.