The tension I felt, expecting some grand proposal, turned out to be unnecessary Dr. William’s request was surprisingly simple.
“Playing…? So, he just wants us to draw with the kids and have fun together? Honestly, considering what we’re getting in return, this is quite an easy request.”
Mari, perhaps feeling nostalgic, said she wanted to spend the day here. That left the decision entirely up to me.
I accepted Dr. William’s proposal.
“…Alright, I understand.”
“!”
Dr. William’s eyes sparkled the moment I agreed.
“I’m really looking forward to it. If two individuals with enough creativity to work as writers at such a young age are involved, it will surely be beneficial for the children’s emotional development. It might even serve as a reference for future curriculum planning.”
“…”
Wait, class…?
Did he just call it playing…?
“Uh… excuse me. If you expect structured education from someone without a teaching license… that’s a bit much.”
Dr. William’s boundless optimism was actually making me nervous. My head started to ache, flooded with concerns tests, certifications, qualifications… Was there any chance this might cause problems?
“Does he somehow think I’m an art therapy expert? No way a well-educated guy like him would assume an artist knows everything about art just because they create it, right…?”
I hurriedly added before his imagination could spiral further.
“Is this really okay? I’m not a professional. I’ve never received any kind of training for teaching kids… I don’t even have a certification.”
Dr. William responded with an easy smile.
“That’s fine. The art education we conduct here isn’t about structured training like an art school. It’s about awakening the children’s senses and emotions that have been closed off for a while.
Normally, that class is run by Ms. Rosemary and Mr. Anthony. Neither of them have formal training in art education, yet the results have been positive.”
“…”
“And in your case, as writers, you probably have a much richer sensory and imaginative experience than the average person. All you have to do is share that valuable experience with the kids in a playful way. If you’d like, you can also refer to our existing art education materials.”
“…”
It seemed his optimism wasn’t entirely baseless. With all that reasoning laid out, I had no choice but to accept.
“…Alright.”
After agreeing, I turned to Mari before heading to Dr. William’s office.
“…Dr. William wants us to lead an art class with the kids this afternoon. I’m still thinking about how exactly to do it, but he seems to be expecting something pretty creative.”
Mari, chewing on a candy handed to her by Ms. Rosemary, replied with a grin.
“Sounds fun! You’ll come up with something great, Hana.”
“…”
A smile without a trace of worry.
I was at a loss for words when I saw it.
“Does living in America automatically make people this optimistic…? Or am I just overly fixated on qualifications and expertise…?”
“…”
I don’t know.
“Anyway, I should start planning the class.”
Nodding to myself, I stepped into Dr. William’s office, where he pointed to an old wooden shelf.
“You can take a look at the albums in this drawer. They contain records of the art activities we’ve conducted here.”
Inside, past activities were neatly organized with photographs. Most of the sessions focused on hands-on experiences, like collages and clay modeling.
After saying that, Dr. William left to prepare lunch for the children. In the meantime, I flipped through the records.
“…”
The photos showed children smiling brightly as they participated in the sessions. These were kids who had suffered emotional wounds for various reasons, now enjoying a class in a relaxed, comforting atmosphere.
Just as Dr. William had said, it was more of a playtime than an actual class.
“Hmm, so the activities focus mainly on strong colors and tactile experiences? And considering the budget, they use simple materials…”
-Flip
“…..”
Somehow, I was starting to get the hang of this.
“Huh, this is a lot more relaxed than I thought.”
*
After Lunch as planned, we started the art class.
In the morning, only younger elementary school kids were present, but in the afternoon, a more diverse age group entered the center.
About fifty children in total. The once-quiet center buzzed with their voices.
According to Dr. William, these were just the regular attendees there were hundreds more who came only for counseling.
‘…So all of them are carrying emotional wounds in some way.’
It left a bitter feeling, but I decided not to dwell on it.
That’s what Dr. William would have wanted, too.
I exaggerated my movements to keep the energy up as I ran the class.
“You’re all doing great!”
“Haha! This is too easy!”
“Drawing is so much fun!”
In front of me, about thirty kids had lined up. Maybe it was my unimposing appearance, but they listened to me without much hesitation.
“There are only 100 seconds left! We have to color in all the white spots! Next up Jack!”
“Heehee!”
Grinning mischievously, the little boy I pointed at ran up to the front. With a brush in hand, he started painting on the large paper hanging from the chalkboard, moving as if he were dancing.
There was no hesitation in his strokes.
“Blue! Blue! Blue! Blue!”
“Nice, nice.”
Jack instinctively followed the geometric patterns I had drawn earlier, filling them with blue. The countless lines inside the circle became a sea of deep color.
“Woooah!”
“Jack’s painting the most!”
“You’re doing great!”
Fueled by the praise, Jack’s brushstrokes grew even more intense bordering on frantic.
The fiery passion of an artist at work was unmistakable.
Jack, who had struggled with emotional instability due to his parents’ divorce, was now a hero.
Sweat beading on his forehead, he kept painting.
“Woooah!”
His brushstrokes were a little crooked, sometimes overlapping, but he didn’t care.
His only goal was to fill every empty space on the giant white canvas.
Of course, the base sketch was a geometric pattern I had drawn on the spot.
‘This is just an activity borrowed from a coloring book… but I’m glad they’re following along so well.’
I immediately pointed to the next child.
“Next up, Betty!”
“Okay!”
One by one, the children painted the massive canvas within the time limit, each using their own colors. The energy in the room was so chaotic that there was no time for deep thoughts.
All they had to do was move their hands, coloring in the white spaces in front of them.
“Hahaha!”
“Aha-ha!”
In such a simple activity, the children found a strange sense of excitement and freedom.
“…Doesn’t this kind of look like a palm tree?”
“I think it looks like a potato.”
Some kids let their imaginations run wild.
Watching them, the teachers and Dr. William smiled warmly, further encouraging the lively atmosphere.
“Great job, everyone! You’re all amazing artists!”
“Who would’ve thought? They all have artistic talent!”
I briefly shifted my gaze away from the lively chaos and looked toward a quieter table in the back.
That was where the kids who weren’t interested in the activity had gathered.
“…”
To my surprise, Mari was there, chatting with the children as she observed their drawings.
Normally, she hesitated to talk to people, but being in a familiar setting seemed to put her at ease.
She was speaking softly with a small girl.
“So the princess rode on a cloud to find the star candy in the sky?”
“Yeah! The fog around the star candy tastes like a snowman.”
“Then let’s draw that snowman flavor using pink and sky blue. What shape should the snowman be?”
“A star shape.”
On the paper, a world of pure fantasy was unfolding.
With Mari’s subtle guidance, vague ideas took form, turning into an unexpectedly captivating drawing.
A fairy tale detached from reality was coming to life.
The teachers standing nearby were visibly astonished.
The child drawing with Mari, Amy, was usually extremely quiet.
— Oh my…! This is the first time I’ve seen Amy talk this much…!
— So this is what a class led by genius artists looks like…
— Now I understand why people seek out prodigies. They have a natural ability to draw others in…
— We should incorporate this into our future curriculum…
They were passionately discussing the session, while Dr. William enthusiastically threw around technical terms I didn’t even understand.
I suddenly felt a bit self-conscious.
“…..”
‘We’re just playing with the kids, that’s all…’
I glanced over the session records Dr. William had left behind and started noticing a few common patterns.
1. Intense and intuitive content.
2. An experience that stimulates primal senses.
3. A method that disregards form and precision.
Based on these common elements, we simply turned “coloring play” and “free drawing” into an interactive activity that children could experience. Thanks to this, the children were truly enjoying art as if it were play.
— Hahaha!
Hearing their laughter, I felt relieved.
‘Well, at least I managed to keep up appearances. If it weren’t for Dr. William’s various attempts and the teachers’ help, this wouldn’t have worked.’
Thus, the three-hour-long class wrapped up successfully.
“How did you even come up with a lesson like this?”
Dr. William, in particular, was so excited that his face was flushed. He kept shaking both of my hands enthusiastically and spoke with passion.
“This is absolutely incredible! I’ve never seen the children so focused and engaged in an activity like this before! This was a groundbreaking educational approach that combined the mental stimulation of art with the physical engagement of physical education. My goodness, this is pure genius!”
“…T-Thank you.”
*
After the heated atmosphere had settled.
Dr. William spoke in the office as the sun set outside.
“Really, no matter how many times I thank you, it wouldn’t be enough. This was such a valuable educational experience for the children. I even feel like we should add more activities like this to the curriculum!”
“Ahaha…”
His praise made me feel a little ticklish inside. To be honest, the content itself wasn’t anything special.
Dr. William smiled brightly and continued.
“Thanks to the both of you coming here, we had a truly meaningful time. As promised, we’ll send the materials to the location you specified right away. We’ll also take care of the transportation as agreed.”
“!”
I gave him a deep bow.
“Thank you!”
“!”
Dr. William quickly grabbed my shoulders in a flustered manner.
“Oh! No need for that! We’re simply following through on our agreement.”
“Huh?”
I blinked in confusion for a moment before realizing this was America.
‘Ah, maybe bowing felt overly formal or even burdensome to him…?’
Feeling a bit awkward, I adjusted my expression and instead extended a hand toward him.
“Thank you again. I really hope you’ll come to the exhibition.”
“Yes, we’ll consider visiting during a field trip. It seems like there will be many fascinating works to see.”
And with that, we shook hands. The setting sun cast a long shadow of our clasped hands on the floor.
*
On the Way Back
Mari and I sat slumped in the back seat of the car, completely exhausted as we headed back to the hotel. The evening scenery of New York blurred past the window.
Even so, I felt a sense of accomplishment that we had pulled off something big. But at the same time, I felt a little guilty for dragging Mari into it.
When I glanced over at her,
she had a somewhat wistful expression on her face.
“….”
“….”
Watching the cityscape pass by, I spoke.
“…A lot happened today.”
“…Yeah.”
“So, do you feel a little better now?”
“Huh?”
“Or should we have some fun at the hotel? Maybe just the two of us, drawing or something.”
“?”
I turned to look at Mari and grinned.
“I’m your playmate, after all.”
“!”
Mari’s face brightened, and she responded with a relieved smile.
“…Yeah!”
*
It was strange.
Even among so many people,
I didn’t feel the slightest bit afraid.
Why?
Was it because the scenery felt familiar?
No, the reason was clear.
“…”
I turned to the side again.
Hana was still gazing out the window.
‘…She really is amazing. She plays so well with kids she’s just met and handles whatever task the adults give her with ease.’
For a moment, I wondered what about me?
“…..”
A slight bitterness crept in.
“…..”
‘But…’
I raised my right hand. It still tingled a little, but the paint stains from playing with the kids remained vivid on my skin. Maybe that’s why I didn’t feel so bad.
“…..”
The children’s laughter, the new memories. From now on, whenever I think of the therapy center, today’s moments will come to mind.
…It felt like I had improved, even if just a little, from yesterday.