Meenu Ravi

The yellow fog stroked its back upon the window-sills and thrashed its tongue into the corners of the crusty evening, loitering upon the lakes that stood in drains filling the basement, a door yawned with a resonant echo.

Cob webs I was once fond of drifted liberally in the air, as the yawning door brought light to well-worn cement and peeling paint on the walls. The fresh air gave life to staleness in the room. Faded and torn white sheets roofed ancient furniture now drowning in dust. My teeth chattered as I blew a balmy mouthful of air on my deadened fingers. I was ready to get to work and win the contest of my dreams. The day was sneaking around the corner. Ten more days to go. The countdown had begun. 10…9…8...

I was ready to shine in my victory spot at the town’s art contest: Classical Arts. Now a crisp, snow white canvas was staring into my little brown eyes, mocking me, craving a delicious perfume of splendid colors. My bare palm embraced the slender, creamy paintbrush. I cradled the brush in my hand and leaned my head in the rising scent of dry paint. Pursing my lips, I blew softly over the icy air and let my eyelids drop. Darkness surrounded me with a shivery chill. Thin air glided upon me as I stared in space. My world feels so empty. All that’s left is sorrow, no rays to glow my way or  light my spot.

My shoulders rose slightly as I breathed in, and hummed with my head low. I was deeply involved in my savoring and confident hobby: painting.

When I paint, I feel so free, like a bird ready to explore the world.

The scarlet sunset sleeping on my canvas had a splendor that astonishes me. My crispy clean canvas was splashed with color. Malleable tinges blended together. A crescendo of golden rays sweeps the watery blue paint. Delicate indentations slowly, faded behind the large distant white smudges of my canvas.

Life is a path of endless light. What is it that gives us the force to continue when we are weary and worn out? Sometimes a rousing scheme can help us replenish ourselves and be filled with potency to fulfill our life’s dreams. The root of all inspiration is the idea that our lives are earth-shattering. Inspiration is to know that what I do matters deeply to the world. When we have the feeling that our dealings are consequential, we are filled with the vigor and courage to accomplish our life’s dreams. And my inspiration is imagination.

Experiences of connection and transformation 

Awesome Moments

In a KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer Meenu Ravi describes the experience of painting a piece of artwork; the emotions, the atmosphere, the root of inspiration. 

Painting My Dreams

Elly Goetz

A blank page can be scary. Sometimes when I start a project, I feel anxious. When I am creating I feel a range of emotions, such as joy, fear, and surprise. Creating is like taking a long walk with many twists and turns and returning safely home with a prize.

Creating something can be as delicious as eating pumpkin pie or as difficult as having a test on Monday morning. Even though sometimes the journey is difficult and full of questions, when I create I have a feeling of freedom because I can express myself any way I want to. When I make something new I learn something about myself. Creating is like taking a net and capturing my thoughts and bringing something new that has never been seen into the world.

To bring about a new, fresh piece of artwork, I find something that inspires me. To hatch my idea, I find inspiration from anything: people, places, images, books, artwork, or a doodle. The world is like a star nursery of ideas waiting for gravity, me, to pull the particles or ideas together to complete a picture.

Other times, I don’t set out to make a piece of artwork but see something that sparks my interest during my day and I cannot wait to sit down and create around that intriguing idea. This is the best moment in the world to me because this is the beginning of the journey that starts an explosion of thinking and making that leads to something new.

This “spark an idea” process can be different if I have an assignment at school. Creating something from a teacher’s creative journey is like being on an unfamiliar path or placing a lens over my vision. This process can be difficult because I have to search for my spark. Instead of gathering ideas to form something I am given the form to fill like a cupcake wrapper waiting for the batter. I initially treat school art assignments like any other academic assignment where I have to interpret the teacher’s words and research what I am going to do.

A good way to find inspiration is through brainstorming. I experience brainstorming as many short splashes of thoughts, images or words entering my mind. When I am brainstorming, I do not judge any ideas that come to my head; I just let this waterfall flow and make decisions later. As I think about and anticipate my creation or assignment, I quickly sketch or write these ideas as they are flooding my head. Sometimes I research images on the internet to find more ideas. Doodling is also a way for me to capture my ideas to make them tangible.

Phigerfly is an imaginary animal that is part elephant, butterfly, and tiger. I doodled many animals to find the one I wanted to make.

When I discover what I want to create, I make a sketch. A sketch is a scaffold to hang my ideas and creation on. While sketching, the challenge is to keep the drawing working toward my concept. I ask myself many questions while I work to flesh out the details and keep my drawing on track. What parts do I use from each animal? What colors should I use? Do I make the animals three-dimensional looking or representational, flat or designed? How can I make this creature read as one imaginary animal?

On a sketch, I test colors to see if they work together. I test to see if they too dark or light or the right amount of contrast.

With my experimental sketches finished, I finally start to work on my creation. I feel excited but nervous because I don’t want to mess up this technical part of my invention. Art work does not always turn out the way I want it to even with all the planning and sketching. Many things can go wrong. The paint might run together, the ink may smudge, a line can get too thick or the color may accidently get too dark. This means starting this technical phase over. This can feel frustrating especially if the work is almost finished, like getting a present and having it taken away.

When I have almost finished bringing my creation into the world, I evaluate my art by asking questions. Are all the parts of my painting working together? Is my idea portrayed here? Does my artwork look different than what I had planned so far? Does it matter? At this stage, despite having to evaluate my work, it feels so wonderful to be able to actually see my conception like seeing my baby brother for the first time. Then, I work on the parts that need to be completed and I am finished!

A blank page can be scary but it can turn into something more than a piece of paper. It is a process with twists and turns, obstacles, and wonderful self-discoveries. With imagination, a blank piece of paper can become a new kind of animal that the world has never seen before. Making something new connects me to the universe because a spark of imagination can grow into a creation just as dust can turn into a star.

In a KidSpirit Features article, teen writer Elly Goetz puts into words the creative, imaginative journey and process she undergoes with her artwork, exploring sources of inspiration and ways to channel inspired ideas.

Filling a Blank Page

Vidushi Sharma

She turned around to give me a cursory glance while wrestling with my willful sister’s tangled curls.

It was too much. I knew, as I somehow always did, that this plan was going to fail once again.

“Never mind,” I mumbled. “Nothing.”

I was in third grade at the time, in a small Catholic school. My only friends were boys, and the only times when this caused me discomfort was when the topic of video games arose in conversation. My parents’ stance on “screen time,” which encompassed video games, television, and computers, consisted of a persistent dissuasion rather than any blatant rules or restrictions. The first (and only) time I requested a gaming device, my parents were flummoxed. Why would I want to waste my time with video games when there was an entire world outside to explore? We lived in a cozy, sunlit home bordering the Hackensack River with an endless amount of natural beauty outdoors. My parents’ unsaid boundaries regarding excessive technological use were counter-intuitive, but effective. My own guilt pushed me away from the screens in my home to piles of books, art supplies, or the wildlife surrounding me. After the few other times I ever asked for gaming devices, I felt ridiculous, even ashamed, that I had pinned my hopes on a commercialized piece of metal.

I’m sure that my parents would have succumbed if they thought that video games were something I truly desired, but I never brought the issue to that point. It became a matter of pride; I relished the ways in which my upbringing was different from others’. My childhood memories are of coloring, feeding the ducks in the river, or spending hours on the couch reading books half my size. The computer and cell phones are hazy recollections, if existent at all. Today, I use as much technology as the average teenager. My silver MacBook is often the first thing I reach for in the mornings and the last thing I stash under my bed at night. A sizeable portion of my computer use is devoted to schoolwork, but Facebook, Gmail, and even Goodreads.com leave palpable imprints on my web history. I text every day and rarely leave the house without my scuffed blue iPod Nano.

For any 16-year-old like me in 2011, it’s inevitable that technology will (and perhaps should) play a major role in daily life. The only differentiating factor seems to be how someone uses their time away from the screen. Might our creativity and imaginations, as a generation, be hindered by technology? I am certain that my love of reading and art survives today only because of my computer-free childhood. There is no amount of browsing on the Internet that can give me the same rush as writing a poem, painting by the glow of a lightbulb at midnight, or even examining a piece of ancient Roman writing in Latin. Even then, I sometimes have a set of songs humming in the background via Pandora radio. In cases like this, technology enhances the experience. Rather than a distraction or an excuse, it is a tool to help me search for something beautiful. But in the end, there is one main difference that I perceive between kids without much early technological exposure and those who are growing up today surrounded by technology.

I can even sense differences between my 10-year-old sister and me. We’re five and a half years apart, but our interests vary greatly, almost entirely due to the fact that she’s been around technology for all her life. I am the explorer and the learner, trying always to improve intellectually or artistically. Vanita (Ita), however, is a social butterfly who is happiest indoors. She is able to adapt to different social situations with greater ease than I am because of her urge to conform within a group. She can create new visages for herself when necessary because of the social exposure she’s had in interacting with her friends online and in person. This increased flexibility is something I see in many of her friends and classmates as well; as a result, some of the simplicity associated with person-to-person interactions has disappeared. At her age, learning was something I did because I loved absorbing the information and creating my own representations. I wrote long sentences that seem pretentious now for spelling word assignments or an 11-page research paper in elementary school on Marco Polo, simply because I felt like making my projects the best, pushing the teacher’s expectations. Ita is a naturally gifted learner, but I don’t know if she has the same kind of singular motivation that I did, and it’s difficult at times to resist trying to make her into a clone of myself. I have my own idealistic moments, when all I want is to sit outside sketching, walking, reading, or learning with her. I want to be connected by that rare, otherworldly sense of coexistence that the Internet can’t provide. The problem is, our definitions of perfect “sisterly” moments usually don’t coincide. Ita is a very indoorsy person who’s usually hesitant to try new things, which is a quality that sometimes both irks and frightens me. It seems that some of her classmates or peers are incredibly disconnected from the arts of the world. They spend most of their time on something akin to Microsoft Paint, a website called Sketchfu that lets users create virtual drawings online and share them with friends. The way they use it, Sketchfu is a mini-Facebook, letting users create their own profiles and send private messages to other friends. It’s hard to remain objective, because the very idea of “drawing” online instead of from life with real materials frustrates me. Little of what happens on that website is “drawing” anyway–the few glimpses I’ve caught of my sister and her friends’ work consist almost exclusively of friendship lists, little sayings, or crude stick-figure messages to others, all woven in with the dramas of sixth-grade life.

There are disparities between myself and friends my age too, albeit to a lesser extent. I’m still close with the kids who spent a decent portion of their childhood time playing Need for Speed or watching Spongebob while I was urged to pick up a book instead. During elementary school and middle school, I felt alone in finding a genuine pleasure in learning and seeking chances to extend myself beyond the classroom. There were choices that had to be made: spend a few hours playing video games with friends or work on the last few chapters of a science book that I knew we’d never get to in class? To enroll in creative writing and math classes or to spend my weekends watching cartoons? There was always a balance—I watched my fair share of Spongebob and Fairly Odd Parents too—but the scales were tipped against heavy technological influence. As a result, my confidence as a student writer, artist, and researcher grew and formed a foundation that helps me today in school as well. I can’t help but think that my upbringing is what helps me find more academic success than the kids who were brought up constantly using electronics. Many of my closest friends today have also been raised without a heavy reliance on electronic media, and they are independent, creative, and less prone to procrastination.

The desire to latch onto something encountered in school and explore it further in outside life, or vice versa, seems to be a marking characteristic of the high-achievers who’ve grown up like me. In fact, the New York Times released an article on September 3rd exploring the place of technology in schools. The article states that, “In a nutshell: schools are spending billions on technology, even as they cut budgets and lay off teachers, with little proof that this approach is improving basic learning.” There isn’t evidence that increased technology in schools is hurting student performance either; in fact, it seems to be magnifying the positive or negative learning patterns that are already present in individual classrooms. As a student, I know that it is all too easy for teachers to fall into the hype of using technology in a class when it is unnecessary, which ends up giving kids mindless tasks to complete or easy distractions to avoid them. Online research for school projects is integral to the way we learn, but teachers often are unable to monitor how much of an effort students make to absorb material found on websites and effectively put it to use. In the end, it’s the relationship between student and teacher motivation and stimulation that makes the difference in a classroom, not the number of laptops or Smart Boards used. The classes I enjoy most are discussion and writing-based, and rarely use any sort of technology at all. The learning is an open, person-to-person experience.

No one can possibly argue that technology is “bad,” or even fully deterrent to the creative process. Who am I to say that an hour spent walking outside has been inherently better utilized than an hour clicking through pictures on Facebook? Social communication might even be a new form of creativity; it requires a certain amount of immersion and skill to manage interactions between hundreds of friends online. Everyone knows that computers can either give users a huge amount of creative freedom or tightly restrict creativity and the imagination. Computers are an indispensable tool if used properly—for group projects, research, or digital art. More often, however, they serve as a distraction to the creative process and dampen the imagination. Why? I think that social networking interactions give more instant gratification than long-term creative projects do, usually becoming irresistible distractions. I’ve probably flipped sporadically through my email more than a dozen times while writing this very piece. Although I’m conscious that what I am doing is impeding the creative process, I can’t help but continue. I might have a greater appreciation for the values of solitude and non-technological treasures because of a childhood with limited electronic exposure, but I am still easily distracted by the Internet. And with this irresistible distraction comes my final and greatest complaint against technology. I feel that “ars gratia artis” (“art for the sake of art”) is a painfully rare phenomenon today. Earlier, if people needed breaks from work, plausible alternatives would be creating something, somehow — a drawing, a poem, a letter to a friend. Today, the Internet is an easy “break” from any type of work; browsing through online headlines or personal communication for a few minutes in between work seems innocent and fleeting.

Nonetheless, a higher reliance on technology and the constant diversion of our thoughts buries the pleasure of creation for the sake of the moment. Technology makes time deceptive. Someone who might not think he or she has an hour to spare to work on an inspired art piece may very well spend fragments of time that add up to an hour on social media websites during the day. Although the pace at which we can retrieve information online is blindingly fast, time remains a constant. What has changed is the ease of making the conscious decision to spend that time doing something that might help us discover ourselves. In today’s world, the philosophy that “everything has to have a goal” adds to the easy diversion of thought. I see in school that when most students read or write, it’s because they have an assignment to finish. Sometimes I ignore ideas with potential because I can’t see an “end point” — there doesn’t seem to be enough time to balance writing for school and writing when I really have something to say. Creativity comes from disregarding outlines. When a teacher gives me a strict step-by-step format for an essay, I’m frustrated, not relieved. Even my best academic work has come when I free myself from what might be a safe way to earn an A. It only makes sense that an audience would be passionate about reading work only when the author has been passionate about writing it. Today, when our expressions are continually buried, we turn increasingly to electronic media. Can we use technology as a tool instead of an escape route? The actions of our generation will hold the answer.

In a KidSpirit Features article, teen writer Vidushi Sharma explores the role technology plays in a young person's life, urging today's generations to nurture active, creative minds.

Technology: Creative Tool or Escape Route?

Allie McIntosh

As I write this, I’m looking out over a wide, vibrant meadow.

There’s a huge mountain staring back at me, snow-capped even now, in the middle of the summer. Birds chirp and the air is crisp. I remember that years ago, sitting on this very bench with my legs swinging back and forth and mosquitoes buzzing around my ears, I would look upon this beauty and the most fantastical images would run through my head. In my mind I would spin tales of mighty warriors taking refuge from some great evil in the copse of trees to my right, stories about how that scrawny deer in front of me spends its evenings. Back then, this meadow held the most spectacular inspiration. But right now, I just feel tired. It’s a peaceful fatigue — I still love this place, I still appreciate its beauty. But somehow, it’s not the same. The stories and images aren’t far from my grasp, but I simply don’t have the energy to take them in my hands and let them grow. I think about this and it makes me kind of sad — where is the imagination I once had? Where are the words and the colors that used to dance around my head in a flurry of excitement and wonder? Does this mean I’m growing up? I should hope not. It scares me a little to feel this absence of imagination, but then I look around me. I see love and faith, happiness and amazement and I realize that imagination is still here. It’s everywhere.

This meadow in which I sit lies on the outskirts of the Bible camp where I’ve been working for the summer. It’s a place that’s been near to my heart all my life, and looking around me, it’s easy to see why. Here, the love never ends. The sun shines down on us as we laugh and sing and grow together. And there is imagination in every breath we breathe. If I were to ever doubt the existence of imagination in those of us who have “grown up,” all I would have to do is observe the wonderful energy around me to realize that imagination never truly leaves us. Whenever campers come to the mountains for a week at camp, they arrive with energy and happiness that bounces off every corner of the cabin.

The most impressive thing, however, is how this energy is reflected in the counselors. These adults have somehow perfected the ability to be responsible and take care of campers while still connecting with them through fun and imagination. This is an amazing thing — and something that requires a special kind of character. The staff at this camp are some of the most amazing people I’ve ever met, and now I understand why: they still have the power to imagine.They’re still able to look out upon this meadow and imagine the most beautiful things. And they have such amazing faith. That in itself is an impressive display of youth-like wonder. Since we’re a Bible camp, we spend a great deal of our time learning about God and sharing the stories of our faith. The ways that these people choose to share their faith with little kids is impressive – faith is a huge concept, and for young campers, many of whom don’t go to church, it can be an idea that’s very difficult to express. But somehow, by the end of the week, our campers leave with faith stories of their own. And in some ways, faith is a grown up version of imagination. We can channel our imagination through faith much like we can through writing and music. Faith can also have the same effect upon us as imagination — it bestows upon us a sense of wonder and a renewed outlook on the world.

But in any case, imagination takes energy.

Perhaps this is why adults are often less imaginative than children; with all of the work and responsibility that adults have to deal with, it’s sometimes difficult to find time to be creative. Not to mention it’s downright exhausting. I’m only 17 years old, and already I find it hard to muster up the energy to be imaginative. I will sit down to write and find myself distracted or swept off to a peaceful nap. So what it comes down to is that imagination never leaves us, it just gets harder to access. It fosters itself in different places and sometimes it comes and goes, but it’s always there. Even now, I am still sitting here on this same old bench, looking out upon the beauty of creation, and I can feel imagination. I can feel it in the air around me and in each word that I write. And even though I’m busy and distracted and downright tired, I know that imagination will never leave me.

In a KidSpirit The Big Question article, teen writer Allie McIntosh reflects on the presence and absence of imagination, and how one's creativity wavers as one ages. 

Mountains and Meadows and Some Kind of Wonder

Sofiy Inck

Eyelash is the protagonist in Nabila Jamshed’s first fantasy novel, Wish Upon a Time: The Legendry Scimitar.

She is a fifteen-year-old who is described as having an “audacious eye for what was not meant to be seen” and as “the girl with a crazy sense of humor and a profound sense of peace.” Overall, she is a fairly likeable character.

We meet Eyelash as she is getting ready to attend a concert with her best friend, Iris. As she looks into the mirror she sees someone else’s reflection. Eyelash finds this odd, but after a while just assumes it was a hallucination and goes to the concert. At the concert, she is transported to a forest where she meets Dream, the girl whom Eyelash saw in the mirror. Dream tells her that she is in “Imagination,” a parallel universe to Eyelash’s world. Dream calls Eyelash’s world “Reality.”

Eyelash stays at Dream’s house while she waits for a notice from the government saying they will open up a portal for her to go home. While at Dream’s house, Eyelash and Dream get drawn into a war and fly off to retrieve a magical sword that could end the conflict. The story then focuses on a battle between good and evil.

There were a few things that bothered me while I was reading this book. The first was that, towards the beginning of the book, the author throws in strange creatures to alert us that this is a fantasy book. For example, we meet a unicorn that never reappears and doesn’t seem to have a purpose. It probably exists purely to tell us that this is a magical place, but it’s not necessary and ends up sounding cliché. Second, as petty as it sounds, Eyelash’s name really bothered me. It’s distracting and it seems to be a part of the “this-is-a-fantasy-book-so-everything-must-sound-fantastical” theme. Nabila Jamshed is trying to make her character seem interesting by having an interesting name, but she doesn’t need to as the character is interesting enough on her own. Also, the magical powers that Eyelash gains in “Imagination” are inconsistent throughout the book. Sometimes she is so powerful that she can blow up charmed locks, and other times she is too weak to defend her friend against a villain. Finally, the author is also quite wordy. Her descriptions are beautiful at times, but often so elaborate that it becomes hard to follow the plot.

On a more positive note, I really enjoyed the little sub-plots that the author creates. They aren’t forced into the story line, but enhance the story and help us understand what drives and motivates her characters.

Overall, Nabila Jamshed creates a very beautiful world, with characters that have interesting and unique life stories. The problem is not her story, but the nature of the genre. I feel like I have heard of a lot of “regular person gets sent to magical world” stories and hers just isn’t anything especially creative. So although her writing is beautiful, I don’t think she brings anything new to the genre. To be fair, I don’t like fantasy books very much, but I did enjoy getting inside her characters. So if you’re into fantasy stories, this book may be for you — the strange, funny characters and clever, magical world are engaging. However, for those of you who don’t love the genre, I don’t recommend it.

In a KidSpirit Media article, teen writer Sofiy Inck reviews Nabila Jamshed’s first fantasy novel, Wish Upon a Time: The Legendry Scimitar.

Wish Upon a Time, The Legendary Scimitar: A Review

Madi Friedman

Inception is a sci-fi, action, drama, thriller, suspense, fantasy, and mystery all in one.

It is about a man, Dom Cobb (Leonardo DiCaprio), who possesses the power to enter other people’s dreams. He and his team are sent on a mission to implant an idea into someone’s mind. This assignment, if it is successful, is known as inception. Their plan is very complicated and many deem it impossible, however Cobb is convinced that inception can in fact be done. Adding to their already complex plan, Cobb has a complicated and difficult past that ends up interfering with their journey. It is revealed that his wife is dead and that she died in a way that directly relates to the task Cobb and his team is trying to perform.

From the beginning an odd change of scenery, plot, and characters grips the audience. Although it is confusing, it is a very interesting and original start and definitely in keeping with the paradoxical and perplexing movie. As the film goes on the audience is brought into the fantastical world that the director, Christopher Nolan, has created. It is a world of dreams and an unrealistic insight into the mind of man.

The idea of dreaming, something that is still questioned and not completely understood by the scientific community today, is made even more complicated and obscure in this movie. As stated in the film and by numerous critics since it came out, the characters are “…in a dream within a dream within another dream.” This is obviously not very easy to understand. However, this is not necessarily a bad thing. The ambiguity of the film makes the viewer think and prompts he or she to contemplate their own dreams along with the meaning of those in the movie. Many people have said of this movie that it is too ridiculous or overly unrealistic, but that is the world of movies. It allows you to create and experience an amazing universe that may not exist within our world. Not everyone is able to expand their minds far enough to create another world that has not been thought of, and the makers of this movie did an amazing job in producing an extremely original universe.

Throughout the movie there seem to be many open-ended situations that confuse the plot. However, almost every one of the questions are answered, and all in very interesting ways that make the viewer say, “Oh, I get it!” and “Wow, that’s really cool.” There is one question that is never truly answered in the last few seconds of the film. These ending moments make you wonder what was the true reality that Dom Cobb was living in.

This was an overall great film, and although it may not be suitable for younger audiences because of its confusion and light violence, I would definitely recommend it to people 13 and older.

In a KidSpirit Media article, teen writer Madi Friedman reviews the popular movie, Inception, directed by Christopher Nolan.

A Review of Inception: The Obscurity of Dreaming

Anya Dunaif

Typically, worldwide contests are for adults with life-long careers in a specific field, but the Odyssey of the Mind (often called OM) is a competition for students.

Youth are given problems to solve creatively through teamwork. These tasks incorporate acting, play writing, set design and construction, musical composition, robotics, and other creative skills.

Millions of children and teenagers from kindergarten through college, representing 25 countries, participate. These contestants form thousands of teams. They work for approximately nine months to solve their given long-term problem, which is answered through an eight minute long performance. A spontaneous problem is also solved on the spot, with no preparation whatsoever. The Odyssey of the Mind is focused on encouraging students to use their imagination to the greatest capacity in the hope that they will continue to do so for the rest of their lives. According to the OM website  (www.odysseyofthemind.com), “. . .in Odyssey of the Mind problems, there isn’t one right answer. Ever.” The name of the contest is rather appropriate since the participants travel distances through their minds that are longer than the voyage of the famed Odysseus. They seek one of the infinite solutions with as much vigor as Odysseus did when searching for his home.

The Odyssey of the Mind’s goal is for students to become self-sufficient along their journey. Although each team has a coach, their role is strictly to support the team members, not to help with the problem solving. Coaches are often schoolteachers, but occasionally they are parents. In some cases they choose to have their students join OM to encourage them to learn and find joy in it. While other teachers have pupils who cannot get enough of school or problem solving. Some students have older siblings, who participated in OM in the past and inspire them to join, in which case The Odyssey of the Mind turns into a cherished family event that is looked forward to annually.

Earlier this year I was fortunate to meet a family friend, Magda, from Gdansk, Poland, whose team (ranging in age from 16 to 19) participated in the 2011 Odyssey of the Mind World Finals in Maryland. They were accompanied by another team from Gdansk that attended the finals as well. Many of the kids had either participated in OM previously or had older siblings who had. Before going back to their home country, both teams visited New York City where I was able to show them my home, Brooklyn, and ask them questions about their experience in OM. Whether we were introducing them to new foods, stopping in stores, or wandering the Brooklyn Museum, all of the team members were eager to talk about their experiences while participating in the Odyssey of the Mind.

“present an uncomplicated existing item that is used in a simple and effective way to complete a real life task. The teams will also create their own solution, a device made out of an unnecessarily complex series of components that will perform the same task as the existing item. The performance will include an inventor character and a marketing plan/sales pitch for its creation.”

The team decided the object they were going to build would be a large “needle threader,” which worked due to a long chain reaction. The skit they created was, in their owns words, “a funny, short story about typical Polish family” that lived on a river with a dam. The dam was made out of a giant needle, but it had a hole in it and the water was pouring through. In order to solve this problem the family built a complex “needle threader” to insert a huge string, which would block the water. All was successful for the small family and the actual Polish students, who came in 16th place worldwide, while the other team from Gdansk came in 5th.

Coming to America was not only fun but an enlightening experience for the Polish teams. According to Magda, at The Odyssey of the Mind world finals “everybody helped each other – there was almost no such thing as rivalry.” Her fellow teammate Olek said, “It was my second time in the world finals, and both times were unforgettable. The enormous crowd of colorfully dressed people, being so kind and helpful to each other, made it especially memorable. Moreover, it is great to have the awareness that you are a representative of your country and proudly wave your flag.” Their colleague Agnieszka also had a positive view of the competition. She said, “while staying in the USA, we learned a few things: Odyssey people are extremely friendly and they love to help others! In my opinion, making new friends is the most important experience. You can learn something about different cultures or just talk. The Odyssey of the Mind finals give you a great opportunity to do so… We also saw a lot of great performances and solutions, which we had never thought about.” Anna, who was a member of the other team from Gdansk, exclaimed, “it was one of the best decisions I have ever made in my life.”

The Odyssey of the Mind attracts young people like Magda and her friends from all over the world and allows them to watch and learn from one another. Children and teenagers of many ages, ethnicities, and points of view have the chance to examine different solutions to the same problems and speak together through the universal language of imagination. The contestants ofthe Odyssey of the Mind are able to focus on the similarities between each other, not the differences — they are all brought together by creativity.

In a KidSpirit Feature article, teen writer Anya Dunaif describes the Odyssey of the Mind competition, which was created by Rowan University professor Dr. Sam Micklus with the goal of encouraging students to collaboratively find solutions to problems creatively. 

Odyssey of the Mind: A Journey to Creativity

Khalid Husain

“As you stumble through the trees, you see Sulaiman grappling with what looks like one of the rangers you narrowly evaded earlier. What do you do?” my uncle said right before he intoned the question which is the basis of all Dungeons and Dragons games.

“Well…” I started off, thinking aloud, then finally making my decision, “I go to them and try to help Sulaiman overpower the ranger and tie him up.”

In a game of Dungeons and Dragons, players use their characters to make decisions in the world with their skills, languages, and alliances. When a character wishes to make a decision that is challenging or difficult to execute, they must roll a multiple-sided die to determine their chances of success or failure in the action they are trying to do.

Did I mention that the entire game is played in your imagination and by speaking aloud? No need for a clunky playing board, or anything of the sort, just a piece of paper for menial character statistics and illustrations of important objects and places in the world, your imagination, and a quick mind.

My two cousins, Sulaiman and Yusuf, our friend Ziyad, and I were playing Dungeons and Dragons with my uncle, Rashid Khalu. Dungeons and Dragons is a game in which a Dungeon master, my uncle in this case, creates long and short term adventures and scenarios for the people playing. All players start out with their own character, having fully customizable features ranging from their race and profession in life, to their moral alignment in the world and their skills. My character was a Human Mage, a spell-casting class which specializes in magic, and a True Neutral character, meaning my character would generally only do things that furthered his own aspirations.

It was getting late and the sun was setting, both in the real world and our imagined world. We started to interrogate the ranger in the game and my uncle, who determines what all the non-player characters say, told us the ranger said that he was tasked with defending the world from the powerful sorceress whom we saw in custody with the ranger’s party. I thought that my cousins were being a little too harsh with the interrogation and afterwards I told the ranger that he had a friend in me. While the others trusted a mage we had previously talked to and didn’t trust this ranger, I trusted neither, but still had a fairly strong sense of justice and what was best for my character. That night, the ranger somehow undid his bonds and walked up to me when it was my watch, tapping me on the shoulder. He told me that if I would let him go, he would give me his ring, which would make me a member of a powerful order. He said I could use the ring to get training from a very powerful mage in a city northwards. The session ended with the others waking up and finding out the ranger had escaped on my watch–I avoided the blame, saying that I didn’t even hear him when he walked out of the camp.

While we put away all of the Dungeons and Dragons related material and finished cleaning up, I thought about what I had done. I justified letting the ranger go with the knowledge that my character had no idea who was ‘good’ or ‘evil’ and that one should not be punished if the prosecutor doesn’t truly know what the other character’s motives are.

One of the most important life lessons I have learned from Dungeons and Dragons is not to judge anyone.

I recognize how astounding it was that my uncle, a busy lawyer, Dungeon Mastered for us. Now I know why–facing moral dilemmas in a made up world where your character’s decisions do have consequences, allows you to recognize moral qualities you may have in your own life and either strengthen them, if they are good, or try to stop them, if they are unsavory. Another marvelous thing I recognized at the end was that in this media focused age, there are very few families that sit together on a carpet and play four-hour-long games which enrich their own lives with each other. All of a sudden I was very grateful that Rashid Khalu had taken the time out develop a world that allows for true self-discovery and real bonding between family and friends.

In a KidSpirit Awesome Moments article, teen writer Khalid Husain reflects on the household game Dungeons and Dragons, and the lessons it teaches in being accepting and thinking creatively.

Imaginary Worlds and Self Discovery

Lucia O'Corozine

They think I should look at what they look at

I glimpse something else around the corner

Their neat and tidy boxes, with labels on the outside

I see a wall, they’ve built around them

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Lucia finds herself distanced from society for having a unique perspective on the world around her.

Deaf, Blind, and Different

Zachariah Claypole White

They wander past the streets
or maybe the streets wander past them

The blurred melodies of car engines
and horns
and sirens
swim past
the forests of parked cars.

The stores trickle down the road.
The last one is boarded and quiet

like the colorless sky
and the chorus of
traveler’s footfalls whisper
The street ends here
or maybe it begins.

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Zachariah conjures forest-like images of city streets, parked cars, and urban travelers.

The Things that Passed

Lexi Longo

In a KidSpirit poem, teen writer Lexi seeks to be distracted from nagging thoughts by reading an engrossing book.

That Distracts Me

Gracie Griffin

With a pencil in my hand, I can do anything

With a pencil in my hand, I can fly high in the clouds,

Or dive in the deepest depths of the ocean

With a pencil in my hand, I could live in a wolf’s den

I could swing through the jungle on a vine,

Invent something someone never thought of

In a KidSpirit poem, young writer Gracie explores the unlimited worlds that are unlocked when we possess both a pencil and the will to create.

With a Pencil in My Hand

Pie Rasor

Inspired by the Penderwicks at Point Mouette:

In a KidSpirit Poem article, teen writer Pie Rasor composes a piece inspired by the Penderwicks at Point Mouette.

Wall

Adele Griffin

I am a writer who is most creative when I am not writing. Ideas for my novels strike when I am doing the simplest things. Taking a shower. Walking the dog. Playing Candyland with my four-year-old.

The perfect idea never seems to be perfectly timed—at the picturesque café with the excellent coffee, or watching a sunset, or doing absolutely anything at all in Paris.

A more difficult experience for me is when I have to force creativity. Forced Creativity is one scary character. It often shows up at some point mid-press though the first draft of a manuscript that is probably not going to work out. For every novel of the twenty-odd that I have published for young readers, there are usually about two or three works that never made it past a rough draft of the first fifty pages. So although I’ve crossed the finish line a bunch of times, I’m a lot more familiar with the feeling of halted journey than completed destination.

Ideas spark all the time, they’re wild and free and everywhere. Rounding out that idea is more elusive. And the difference between a manuscript that I’ll have to set aside (read: abandon) and the manuscript that I’ll shy-nervous-proudly show my editor very often depends on that mid-point moment.

What happened? Where’d it go? What, exactly, did I lose? Something! Plot, theme, third act, maybe the whole reason I decided this particular story would be a fantastic, amazing, never-before-attempted idea in the first place. It’s a nerve-rattling moment. And in the back of my mind, although I might choose to slog on, I’m already swallowing the hard-truth pellets. It’s an icy dread, that knowledge that it won’t be long before I have to say goodbye for good.

But before that particular brave decision. Before I chuck the old manuscript and take myself out for pizza and a milkshake to eat my bitter disappointment. Before I start all over again, on page one of Untitled. Wayyy before I arrive at any of those moments, I am scrabbling for that elusive mischief-maker, the thing that got me into all this trouble in the first place—creativity.

Where did it go? Why isn’t it here to propel me past these first 20,000 words? How could I have been holding onto it so easily, for so long, only to have it vaporize when I needed it most?

And it’s right about at this moment that Forced Creativity blows into town. A little too dressy and a little too glib. Forced Creativity takes weird chances with plot. Forced Creativity really, really likes to play search-replace with first draft names: let’s find Anne and replace it with Annabella. Let’s make this a second person narrative! Oh, right. That’ll fix everything. Forced Creativity spends hours rearranging the furniture in chapter five. Forced Creativity might kill off someone, or have a long digressive conversation. Usually Forced Creativity just makes a mess and leaves a trail.

Of course, I try to learn a lesson from the failure so that I won’t fail again. And of course I will fail again. But in a way, that’s the delight of writing. The leap in the darkness.

Obviously, I don’t want to hang out too long with Forced Creativity. I know what the future holds for us. But I have to be sure. Because sometimes Forced Creativity enters with just a patch of bad weather, a bog to slog through, a hard road to cover so that you can get to the end and turn around and repair the potholes.

But the weird part is, you can never tell. If I knew when I started where I’d be in the middle, then I never would have started—so breathless and giddy and sure—at all. Here’s the first page of a novel, The Leeches of Ache, an early young adult fantasy that I recently gave up on.

Past the graveyard and around the bend of Lake Ache stands a cottage that resembles a yam in a squashed top hat. Additionally odd are its crooked front door and the tangle of chasteberry trees that grow so close they scratch its windows.

The cottage has always been known as the Lump, and it’s famous for its witch-house magic, but you wouldn’t know it now. Now the grounds are frozen. The curtains are drawn. There’s a shave of smoke up the chimney, but it is hard to imagine a welcome hearth inside. In fact, anyone brave enough to approach would surely lose nerve before knocking.

The mailman, for one, is too chicken. He’s been leaving letters on the nearby wall. Trick-or-treaters skipped it this year, too. And last night’s carolers scoot past without a peep.

You’d have to be desperate to call on The Lump.

And desperate was a perfect description of Cat.

So. It starts fun. And I’ve got a deliciously weird cast of characters for this story. There’s a detailed outline. There’s almost one hundred fifty pages of text. It’s hard for me to believe that I lost clarity on this. It seemed fail-proof. But I did. Past page 100, I started to flounder. I couldn’t figure out the bigger theme of the fantasy. My world-building felt as though it would blow away on a wolf-puff.

And when I read back through it, oh, look. There’s Forced Creativity taking a wandering walk through some of my added text. Painting the roses there and adding a fight that didn’t need to be fought over there. Ugh.

It’s impossible to know the difference between what’s just some regular old turbulence in the manuscript before you’re clear again, and what’s the early sign of a crash landing. Giving up too early on something that might have worked out, had I myself worked harder—that’s always a danger. Building higher off a shaky platform is an equal, opposite danger. Time sometimes answers this question. The pause—walking away and coming back to the work—can be helpful. But sometimes it’s not. To me, that is also the absolute essence of the writing process. The mystery.

The Leeches of Ache was not a terrible experience. All I know is that when it left me, and when Forced Creativity came bungling in—with its inane ability to concentrate on none of the important stuff—I had to move out of this manuscript, and start all over again. Obviously, it’s a little bit heartbreaking. Of course, I try to learn a lesson from the failure so that I won’t fail again. And of course I will fail again. But in a way, that’s the delight of writing. The leap in the darkness. The possibility of free-fall into the void. And the unexpected, buoying delight in occasional success.

In a KidSpirit PerSpectives essay, writer Adele Griffin shares her wisdom on creativity.

Who Turned Off the Lights?: When Creativity Leaves the Room

What is the imagination? What is the source of our creativity and how do we nourish it? From articles on how technology impacts the imagination to how we create art, these questions and others are at the hub of this issue of KidSpirit.

1. In her feature article “Filling a Blank Page,” Elly Goetz describes her process in creating a brand new work of art. “Sometimes when I start a project, I feel anxious. When I am creating I feel a range of emotions, such as joy, fear, and surprise.” In writer Adele Griffin’s PerSpectives article, Griffin describes a similar anxiety over forcing creativity. How do you feel when you stare at a blank page, whether it is before starting a drawing or painting, or even before writing? How do you feel throughout the process of your creative expression? How and why do your feelings change, or stay the same? Can creativity be forced? When is creativity “authentic”?

2. In “Technology: Creative Tool or Escape Route?” Vidushi Sharma wonders whether technology has been a blessing or a curse for her creativity. How does technology help or hinder your own creative projects? Do you think that on the whole being constantly “plugged in” to the Internet, cell phones and other forms of media stimulates your brain positively or negatively? Why?

3. Khalid Husain describes a unique form of creative expression in his Awesome Moments piece: playing Dungeons and Dragons. Do you do something creative or imaginative that others might not consider to be so? Share the imaginative process and why it is important to you.

4. In the Big Question, Allie McIntosh laments that when looking at the mountains she once came to for inspiration she now notices her youthful imagination is harder to access. Have you noticed your own imagination changing as you grow older? Is it harder to be imaginative or creative than before, or do you notice yourself becoming creative in different ways?

Creativity and Imagination Group Guide

What is the imagination? What is the source of our creativity and how do we nourish it? These questions and others are at the hub of this issue of KidSpirit.

Painting My Dreams

Like what you're reading?