Like the rainbow of flavors offered up in a single roll of Life Savers, kids are not all the same.
Some kids are not born athletes. They’re too small for sports, or too large, or just don’t fit in. Others have obstacles thrown in their way by adults who prey on the weak, shattering youthful confidence. For these children, the age-old ritual of choosing up teams itself can be humiliating for those always picked last.
But all kids want to be part of something bigger than themselves, to belong. All kids want to make a contribution, to believe they are good at something, to feel good about themselves, to not feel useless.
And every single child is inherently creative – it’s what makes us human, the divine spark that elevates and animates us.
If you will imagine for a second that a school is like a passenger liner proudly carrying its precious cargo into the future, then the children that can’t play competitive sports, the kids that don’t fit in, the kids that are bullied and ostracized, those wrestling with existential challenges, are like a passenger that has fallen overboard, drifting silently away, ever further into the night.
For the children falling further and further behind, left to navigate stormy seas on their own, the arts can act like life preservers, a path to something better, a way back to the light, and, to stretch this metaphor further, can serve as a lifeline back to the mother ship heading off oblivious without them into the future.