THE CREATIVE POWER OF BOREDOM
by James Russell
First published in The Green Parent magazine (www.thegreenparent.co.uk)
"When I examined myself, and my methods of thought, I came to the conclusion that the gift of fantasy has meant more to me than my talent for absorbing positive knowledge." Albert Einstein
As we need empty spaces in our cities so our children need empty places
in
their lives. At least my daughter does. A lively six year old, she loves
school but by the end of the week is as wired as a stressed-out executive.
On a bad Saturday morning she wakes up completely frazzled. She has
to watch TV! She must have friends over! She needs to go shopping! The
suggestion that we go for a walk is met by tears. It's so boring! I
hate walks!
As she shouts and screams it is hard to remember that she is not just
being bratty. It is also hard to resist her demands for entertainment.
She, like most of us, hates to come down, and our culture is on her
side. Since we abolished Sunday (why rest when you can shop?) and began
overloading the calendar with holidays, festivals, sporting events and
so on, it has become almost a sin to do nothing. A good citizen is an
avid consumer, not just of material things but of entertainment, recorded
music, exotic places. As parents we are under pressure to provide continual
activity for our children, since to be bored in the twenty-first century
is a terrible deprivation.
Boredom. It is not a word that thrills, but it is as necessary to one
particular child as breathing. The poor girl is beside herself on Saturday
morning after a busy week. There are, of course, activities we should
be getting her involved in: a gymnastics class; a theatre workshop.
A friend wants her to come over. She needs new shoes. But we take a
deep breath and tell her we're going to have a quiet day. This is not
the news she was hoping for. She collapses in tears. We are the worst
parents in the
world. Not even TV?
The next hour can be excruciating. More tears, first of all. Unkind
words. She drags herself into the front room and flops about on the
sofa, half on the floor, as tragic a picture as you could imagine. Books
and shoes are flung about. Then something changes. She starts muttering
to herself. Her eyes light on a piece of wool, a piece of red wool six
inches long. She picks it up and waves it feebly about. Drops it. Flops
down to the floor. Picks the wool up again. This time she pulls it taut
with both hands. She twists it around her finger. Untwists it slowly.
I notice at this point that a change has come over her. She focuses
intently on the wool, then looks around for something else: a small
plastic horse. She takes the horse
and ties the wool around it and starts talking to it. Come on, horsey!
There's a new lightness in her tone, in her body too. Suddenly she's
gone.
A little while later I go up to her bedroom, noticing first that she's
singing. Not a particular song but, rather, a kind of sing-songy monologue
that wanders with her thoughts. It sounds like fairies might. I peek
around the door to see her squatting on the floor, singing to herself.
Around her she has already created a world. The horse is beside her,
still tied up, and in front of her is every animal she and her brother
possess: realist plastic animals; cuddly bears; painted wooden birds
from a farm set. They're in little groups, the small ones perched up
on blocks, arranged according to some private plan.
"Hello, Dadda!" she chirps, and goes back to her game.
Creativity has always been mysterious. Even today, when we have studied
every aspect of human psychology and endeavour, it remains impossible
to pin down what it is that makes this person creative and that person
not. I think you can see creativity evolving in a child, though. You
can watch a child construct elaborate games that are, in effect, worlds.
My daughter enters an altered state when she has recovered from the
initial shock of boredom. It allows her to calm down after a week of
stress but it has the added effect of opening up her creative self.
A beautiful energy lights up the room around her . . .
With the animals all lined up she will rush off, quick as a sprite,
and fetch paper, pencils,
scissors. Still talking to herself in that incomprehensible way she
will set about constructing whatever it is her animals need: a farmyard
or a library; a storybook or a family of cats. Sometimes I lie on her
bed and absorb the beautiful energy that lights up the room around her;
she'll come up to me with something that needs stapling but otherwise
remains in her own world. The morning passes. An extensive family of
paper cats fills the room, complete with baskets, paper mice to chase,
paper
birds ('Poor birdies') likewise and paper rugs to lie on.
Sometimes her little brother gets embroiled in the game. At two he is
a restless creature, but his toddler energy is no match for his sister's
creativity. She calls him Alexander for some reason and explains repeatedly
that they are orphans; smiling and placid he lets himself be dressed
up as a princess, sits quietly when told, dances on command.
I don't think school is a bad thing. It serves to teach children how
to interact in the world and dilutes the parental influence. But school
only offers a partial education. Reading, for example, is a necessary
skill, but equally necessary, and much neglected, is the development
of an imagination that will allow the words on the page to be more than
dry symbols. To appreciate a novel it is not enough to read the words.
You must have the mental equipment to translate words into a world,
and that requires imagination. Being left alone with a few toys enables
a child to develop that world-
building power.
There is a tendency in our results-driven time to think of creativity
as a workplace tool, a
problem-solving skill that will enable the possessor to function as
a good citizen. Some experts suggest that creativity be nurtured by
encouraging young children to make choices and solve problems. I am
talking about something different. The creativity my daughter exhibits
when she is playing is about process, not goals. It's wonderful that
she chooses scrap paper and pencil as her medium of choice. The house
is full of her creations, let loose once the creative force is spent:
paper frogs hiding under rugs; a book of spells in the fruit bowl.
This kind of creativity is not about 'becoming an artist', but it is
about learning to live
artistically. Not everyone has the talent or temperament to create artistic
products, but I think we all have the capacity to appreciate life more
by approaching the most mundane things in an imaginative way.
Whenever something gets vandalised in our park or shop windows are smashed
on the High Street the response is usually that 'bored teenagers' did
it. We debate endlessly what to do with these people, who obviously
lack the ability to amuse themselves. We make the mistake of assuming
that the kids who cause trouble are the poorest or most deprived. Suppose
instead they are frustrated artists who have never been given a chance
to develop an imagination? No, this view won't get me elected, but it's
an interesting thought. Suppose the reason kids in school are undisciplined
and
unmotivated is not that teachers have lost the authority of the cane
but that today's children are over-stimulated from the moment they lay
hands on that first electronic toy, that first baby's book?
A bored child is a terrible thing. As a parent you have to endure hours
of whining, drooping
about, demands for snacks, squabbling, and so on, before the child can
switch off. Sometimes it doesn't work and the boredom carries on all
day. It seems as though you are making your child suffer unnecessarily,
but you may be equipping them for a happy life.
It's no accident that many of the great artists and writers suffered
lengthy periods of boredom. You only have to think of the Brontes, trapped
on their moor with nothing to do. And how many literary biographies
of the past contain a lengthy childhood sickness? I picture the young
Robert Louis Stevenson lying on his sickbed, conjuring the fantasies
that will become 'Treasure Island'. Nowadays not even sickness guarantees
boredom, since a video will always help pass the time.
Worse, the school curriculum is so much more interactive and stimulating
than it used to be that students now even have trouble slipping into
that bored reverie at the back of the class, source of so many adolescent
fantasies. By a curious twist, a school that is low in the league tables
may prove a healthier environment for a developing mind: at my daughter's
primary school, which doesn't have the greatest academic record, the
Year Ones are allowed plenty of time for unstructured 'making'. When
friends come over they disappear upstairs and make all kinds of strange
and wonderful things with paper, scissors and glue.
My daughter emerges from her morning in the creative zone a new person,
helpful and friendly and ready to go out and have fun. In this happy
state she'll skip three miles through countryside that is suddenly full
of fairies and bears.
Recently I was in the room when her little brother woke up from a nap.
He didn't see me and for a long time lay there on his bed, staring at
the ceiling, not moving. Usually he wakes in a terrible mood, but this
time he lay quietly, and though I had no idea what he was thinking about
I could tell that he was daydreaming. That same bright energy was coming
from him. Not something you could video, like a first step, or record,
like a first word, but just as valuable.
*****
Author, James Russell can be contacted via email on jdrussell2@hotmail.com
For more articles like this, check out The Green Parent magazine, www.thegreenparent.co.uk.
Inside you’ll find alternative education, natural health and beauty,
organic food and drink and eco-house and garden features. Green Kids
is tucked inside every issue and is packed with activities to keep small
hands busy. Subscription costs just £15 for a year.