Tag Archives: Hardship

Soul & Solace: Cruel Summer

Creativity/Spirituality, , , , , , , , ,

Have you heard Bananarama’s song, “Cruel Summer?” The plaintive melody accompanies lyrics that describe a sweltering season make crueler by circumstance. 2024 was, for us, a cruel summer: due to a perfect storm of hardship and heartache. Hardships global and national; heartbreak in vocation and for our family. Then, days before our creativity camp’s start date—with materials and food purchased and prepped, our house transformed into a space station, parents counting on us for childcare and children jazzed about launching their imaginations into space, we got grounded.

Mere weeks before the CDC approved a new vaccine for recent strains of the virus, COVID swept through our family. We had to cancel camp. We’ve never done that before: even during the worst of the pandemic, we went online, delivering art supplies to participants’ doors and guiding learning via the Internet.

In its eighteen years of service, A Spacious Place has made its way through a more than our share of hardships and heartbreaks. We’ve always picked ourselves up, dusted ourselves off, and got back to it. This time was different. This time I saw no way forward. Felt no hope.

When the virus was done with me, the communities we serve awaited. I waded through preparation and packing for the simple reason that I couldn’t stand to be around myself if I let these people down. It helped that my family was there for me.

Classes got easier each time we went, each time we watched creativity unfold and faces find grins. Each day had its bright spots. For our August Young Artists Club, we provided Messy Art Day activities we’d planned for camp. The afternoon was messy, noisy, laugh-filled, wet, and wonderful.

I suspect someone reading this piece knows about cruel seasons. My hope for you is

1. That you be especially kind to yourself; wounds require rest and care;

2. That you take a step forward in hope, even if it’s a baby step; and

3. That you stay connected with someone who loves you unconditionally. We need connection, especially when times are cruel.

Today, I’m grateful for cooler temperatures and the promise of fall leaves. For the people we serve and for those who serve alongside us. And hope. I’m grateful always for hope.

What helps you hope? What do you do for self-care? Do you have a song that names a life experience for you? Share your thoughts at contact@aspaciousplace.com.

Soul & Solace: Hardship’s Crucible

Creativity/Spirituality, , , , ,

Hardship, aka tough times, aka One Big Mess. Whatever we call it, a time of trial can work like a crucible. We get tossed in the beaker with a variety of volatile ingredients, the fire’s laid on, and things start churning and bubbling. In time, the dross burns away, and we’re left with the precipitated amalgam: potentially stronger, cleaner, and clarified. In other words, hardship, blast it!, can show us who we are and what we value.

A recent leadership change in our daughter’s liberal arts college elicited a major policy change. Graduate students found themselves tossed into hardship’s crucible. It’s been a fiery trial, especially for young people living in near poverty and working/studying 24/7. Below is Arielle’s post, written in the crucible. I share it because 1) the piece reflects A Spacious Place’s values applied in a real-world situation; 2) the piece demonstrates the power of creative and reflective thought, thus demonstrating the importance of arts and soul education; and 3) I’m mighty proud of her.

Just one last word before Arielle’s piece. We have a single task in a crucible time: to remain in the beaker till the flame has done its work. A few screams are not only to be expected—they may well be efficacious.

From Arielle McKee’s Facebook Post
I have been struggling for some time with how to put words around recent events at my university, and have finally come to this (and it is the best I can do at this moment):

The liberal arts matter exactly as much as the other colleges at ours and other universities, just as each component discipline is just as necessary and valuable as the next. Education is not, it cannot be about dollar value, deliverables, or ambiguous innovations. Nor is education a business; indeed, to measure the “success” of an education in such terms is to not only fundamentally misunderstand education’s power and purpose, but to effectively hinder, and at times even to thwart, an educator or educational institution’s ability to challenge and nurture well-rounded, creative, and critical thinkers. Thinkers who can change the world for the better.

In CLA we are trained to ask questions and to critically examine the world; it is our duty as scholars and as humans to query received narratives and to use our training to imagine new, creative solutions. Not a single one of us should be a tradeoff; we are people with lives and dreams and voices, and we are stronger together. We are stronger because, if we value each other and each other’s work–refusing to accept that any one person is worth less than any other–then we will finally have between us a staggering force for radical change. As liberal arts scholars, our particular call is to imagine and create alternatives, rather than to accept the limits we are told to hold to–particularly when those limits harm or devalue another human life.

I find myself lucky enough to work alongside friends and colleagues who believe in and will bravely fight for our education and for the education of our students and fellows. I am continually in awe of the bright and compassionate hearts and minds I see around me. To me you truly embody what the Liberal Arts are and should be, and I am proud to know you.