Many years ago, when Emily was a mere five years old, I enrolled her in BYU Museum of Art's children's art class. Somehow I had not caught the fine print on the registration form that explained there was a "minimum age" requirement that Emily did not meet. However, the teachers didn't catch the slip up until after the first class. By that time, they saw that Emily was genuinely interested, creative and independent and that she had an older cousin participating too... so they let her stay in the class.
She loved going to class each week!
I was impressed by the level of sophistication employed in teaching the children. This wasn't your run of the mill arts and crafts class. The class discussed real art forms and styles and then had the children get their hands dirty with paints and clay.
Emily's final product was an art display entitled, "Emily Speaks in Church." Inside of her painted box, she had painstakingly molded a podium with a microphone and a little girl standing at the podium. Her background was painted in vibrant hues and a short description of her artwork hung below it in the halls of the museum.
Her choice of subject material is an interesting one. Several months before the art class, Emily had been given a small part to memorize for our ward's sacrament meeting primary program. Her previous experiences at the microphone had been successful and flawless. Something had happened though that year at the primary program which rendered her speechless. She stood behind the microphone, took an audible deep breath and just stared. No whispering in the ear or prodding by anyone could get her to speak or move.
Eventually Emily was guided off the stool behind the podium and back to her seat.
We never could figure out why she clutched up that day. It was so unlike her. Her kindergarten teacher also happened to be in our ward. She took notice that her little student had not performed as she knew she could and didn't want the memory sticking with Emily. What a wise and wonderful teacher! A few months later when it was time for the annual kindergarten program at school, she assigned Emily a pivotal part. The teacher had taken me aside and explained that she had noticed Emily's nervousness at the podium several months before and wanted this kindergarten program to be a successful and confidence building experience for her. The teacher knew Emily's potential and prepared her perfectly for the performance.
As we watched Emily on stage with dozens of other kindergarten children, she rose confidently, went to the chalkboard that served as a prop and effortless wrote the letter "F" backwards (on purpose). She carried on the memorized dialogue with the teacher, corrected her "mistake" and wrote the letter "F" perfectly in front of hundreds of people.
The kindergarten teacher recognized something I hadn't really picked up on as a young mother. I had rationalized Emily's speechlessness months earlier as a fluke. The teacher, however, didn't want to take that chance and decided that Emily needed this part to repair her confidence.
When we saw the artwork for the first time, it dawned on me that of all the subjects Emily could have chosen to create and display, it was her experience at the chapel podium she depicted.
I sense in this little girl's eyes a renewed confidence in herself. While she didn't verbalize the "trauma" of being rendered speechless months before, her artwork speaks volumes. I'm so grateful for an insightful and thoughtful teacher who saw a little girl's potential and helped her grow.
That was THEN... ( I suppose I digressed just a little)...
Today, Emily is an Art History major and though I was quite surprised at first by the selection, I think it is really a perfect fit.
Hopefully, by next spring she will be studying art throughout Europe with 23 other art history and classics majors from BYU. I'm so excited for her!
