It was progress report day, my senior year of high school. After Art, I made my way to my last class, Spanish IV. There, I sat in my usual seat, and laid my books out on my desk. But when our teacher stood up to begin his lecture, a student appeared at the door.
“Mr. M, Mr. C wants to see Melissa, if it’s ok.” At this Mr. M nodded. Then looking at me, he leaned his head towards the door as if to say, ‘you may go.’ I got up from my desk. Then the student added, “He wants you to bring your progress report.”
Confused, I retrieved it from inside my Spanish textbook. Then I followed the student out the door, and down the hall, back toward the Art wing. As we walked, I glanced at the small paper in my hands. In the column that ran down the right side of the page were a string of A’s, A+’s, and A-’s. Then, at the bottom, on the line designated for my Art class, there was a B+.
When we arrived at the art room, Mr. C, saw me and quickly directed me back into the hall. He reached out his hand and I gave him my progress report. Then looking at it, he shook his head before sighing loudly. “I really hate doing this to you Melissa.” By “this,” I could only assume he meant giving me a B+. Then, he said the words that have stuck with me all these years:
“I want to give you an A it’s just, you’re not creative enough.”
It was as if he’d pick out a piece of me and then dropped it there on the floor in front of us, leaving me scrambling to pick it up. Suddenly I felt the need to defend myself.
“Well, …I feel like I’m creative in photography,” I said, referring to our after school program. But to this he was quiet. I didn’t know what else to say. I stood in the hallway for what seemed like forever before he concluded,
“I’ll give you an A if you promise to write me a paper on an artist for extra credit.” I agreed, then Mr. C pressed my progress report up against the wall, and made my B+ into an A. Only as much as he helped my grade, Mr. C did some damage to how I saw myself. When he told me I wasn’t “creative enough,” I heard,
“Melissa, you’re not creative.”
Social researcher, Brene Brown says seventy percent of us carry around a deep wound from our childhood. For fifty percent of those, the wound is a creative one. In other words, many of us enter into adulthood, believing like I did, that
We are not creative.
This is one of the worst lies you and I can believe about ourselves. Unlike being born with an amazing singing voice, a brain for mathematics, or the ability to run fast—creativity is not the blessing of a few. It is a gift for all.
Creativity is not the blessing of a few. It is a gift for all.
Just as we are designed to breath in oxygen or wired to be in relationship with others, every one of us was born to create. Sure, how we express this ability may look different from person to person. But our greatest contribution to this world is not our ability to consume, it’s to create. To develop, build, construct, establish—to bring into being that which has never been before.
Our greatest contribution to this world is not our ability to consume, it’s to create.
Only creative wounds or toxic messages are keeping us from living into our fullest selves. While at the same time so many of us struggle with anxiety and depression, I can’t help but wonder if the source is much deeper than our current circumstances.
What if part of why we’re struggling is because we’ve been unable to create?
What if the words of others, or cultural lies have been keeping us from doing the good work we are meant to do? As Chase Jarvis says in this interview, creativity gives us agency over our lives. When we’re able to create, we tap into a God-given power and sense of purpose that no person can give or take away from us.
Creativity is our birthright.
No matter who we are.
For this reason, on the blog this month, we’re going to talk about it. We’re going to learn ways of opening ourselves up to new modes of being creative. We’ll talk about how creativity can be a source of healing. And I will to share resources that have helped me overcome my art teacher’s words to me all those years ago—in hopes of helping you heal from any creative wounds you may be carrying.
Do you know you’re creative?
When was the last time you made something?
Often, before we create, we need to clear some space for ourselves—not just physically, but mentally too. Sign up for my email list, and get my Five Ways to Declutter Your Mind resource. In it I share five ways to cut through the noise in your life, to find more peace and clarity.
