They Let Me Play

When mum and dad were getting ready for the classroom to start up, they let me play.

In mum's room, that meant that I could just go play at her Lego table (that she had built out of her own pocket, I realized years later) or help her decorate her boards or 'help' by decorating the desks and costumes for whatever dramatic presentation she was planning for the year to show off her students excellence in language and dancing.

In dad's room (same school, small town means lots of grades in one building) I got to pretend I was a 'big kid' and check out the fancy science things that were usually just at the science centres or museums. But, sometimes I got to join them as they went to collect textbooks and supplies from the supply room… and that's where school started to feel like magic.

There was a whole section at the back of art supplies. There were so many colours and sizes of paper that I thought were so special, even if now I know it's just craft paper. There were paint brushes and pencils and oil pastels and… there was paint.

I used to love looking at the new pans of watercolours. The paints were so smooth and untouched, like some sort of treasure no one had seen. And they always let me pick out a couple things to use while they prepared their room.

I didn't know it then, but dad needed to grab a bunch for his art classes anyway, so while I thought I was getting the most incredible treat, it was already destined for their classrooms. Mom had plans for fun oil pastel leaves in the fall and hearts in February, dad had plans for still life and landscape sorts of Christmas cards in December with tempera and watercolours.

But little me thought this dark magical room was just where art supplies were born… and how I played.

I played so much that years later I got to play in art school in university, and then I got to play in my own classroom. And I think sometimes, that this is why my students get so excited when they get to go get some things from storage. They know they will get to play too.