Our Very Own "A Lot"

Nov 03, 2023

Dear Friends,

Much to my surprise and delight, my daughter Nora is an art kid.

At two, she would put every single sticker from a pack on one sheet of paper, making a giant, layered mound. We called it her “El Duende sticker period.” Then she began to love crayons and markers, decorating the whole paper with scribbles. Next was her rainbow phase (preferred medium: watercolor), when she’d fill the entire sheet with carefully arranged colors bleeding into one another. Now she’s experimenting with “menus,” as she calls them, where she paints or draws images of vegetables.

When it’s raining outside, we pull out the paint. When she’s sick and stuck at home, Play-Doh saves the day. When she’s acting squirrely in the late afternoon, watercolors will zen her right on out.

Last week, deep in a watercolor flow state, she did the unthinkable and dismissed me all together.

“You can go in the living room, Mama,” Nora said. “I’m going to work on my painting.”

Total art kid.

Last year in Nora’s parent-teacher conference, her teachers expressed concern that she didn’t much want to play with other children on the playground. She didn’t want to climb on the equipment with the other kids, or run around. She just wanted to sit with the teachers.

At the time, this gave me significant heartburn. Why doesn’t she want to play with others? Is something wrong?

A few weeks ago at preschool pickup, my daughter asked if we could play on the playground for a few minutes before we left.

“This is the spinny thing,” she told me, “and this is where Mackenzie and Margaret play cupcake shop.”

She led me over to a kid-sized picnic table just beside the playground equipment.

“And here’s where I do art!”

When the photos from the day at school hit my email inbox, I saw what she meant. During playground time, Nora’s teachers had brought crayons and paper outside so she could color, if that’s what she wanted to do. In the photo, my daughter and a few other kids huddled at the picnic table with their crayons as the rest of the class ran around, climbed, and jumped.

I felt myself getting a bit misty.

My daughter’s teachers–they saw my kid. They didn’t see her reticence at playground-time as a problem, but rather something to be refocused towards her actual interests.

They said, hey art kid, we see you. There’s space for you here, too.

Everyone wants to be seen and feel a sense of belonging.

I’ve been joking with my friend Carmen (who sings with me in the Alexandria Choral Society and is the center co-director of Music Together Alexandria) that in every community there’s someone who is kind of “a lot,” but then they grow on you, and they become dear.

“She’s a lot, but she’s our a lot,” I said about a particularly kooky kid in the Music Together program.

You may feel this way about someone in one of your pockets of community. This person might talk too much about themselves, or too loudly. Their insecurities show. Their behavior is a little wacky. It’s Monday, and they’ve still got on face paint from a festival they attended Saturday. That kind of thing.

But you’re fond of them. You feel a bit protective of them.

It’s that guy at work who you thought was a total weirdo, but now you have several inside jokes. The woman at church who always has something to say when it’s time to share. The kid who runs a little wild at library story time, but shows up every week. Your teenager’s beloved friend who is always in self-inflicted crisis.

They’re a lot, but they’re our a lot. Our very own a lot.

Human beings are wired to group people into the “us” and “them.” Caveman stuff. Justify your overuse of resources by demonizing the other tribe.

But humans are also wired for compassion. For choosing kindness. For seeing someone’s anxiety, oddity, or neurosis on full display and then choosing to love them anyway.

When we claim someone as our own, even in these micro-communities, we are living up to our highest human potential.

Not power, not control, but acceptance and inclusion.

There’s a tenet of the Music Together program built around this. Music Together teachers are taught to “accept and include” whenever possible in class–watch how the children are using the instruments, and drum like them. Take suggestions for how to modify the verses. (What animal should we sing about sitting in the tree? A unicorn? Let’s do it.)

In Music Together training, the instructors taught us that music is our birthright as humans. Every child is musical. Every child has musical potential, and every child has the capacity to appreciate music.

Likewise, acceptance and inclusion should also be considered a birthright.

When you’re feeling powerless to do anything about the horrors in the world, I’d suggest first looking within your own community. Are you truly seeing the people around you? Are you accepting and including where you can? Are you making space for others to be their true, authentic selves?

And are you feeling a sense of belonging where you are? I hope so.

Take good care,

Dot

News & Updates

We’re excited to announce that Kristopher Forren, MA will be joining our practice as an Associate Art Therapist under the supervision of Laura Miles, LPC, ATR-BC and Adele Stuckey, LPC, ATR-BC. Kristopher specializes in working with adults and older adults who are experiencing life transitions that bring feelings of depression, anxiety, or grief. Kristopher also works with LGBTQIA+ adults seeking to explore their identity and express their authentic self.

Reach out today to schedule your free 15-minute consultation with Kristopher.

Tell Us More About You

Katie Gaynor, MA, ATR-P has openings available for new clients ages 6-adult looking for help processing grief, stress, anxiety and depression, trauma, or life transitions. Evening appointment times available.

Reach out today to schedule your free 15-minute consultation with Katie.

Tell Us More About You

Adele Stuckey, LPC, ATR-BC has availability for new clients seeking therapy for couples work, LGBTQIA+ affirming therapy, perinatal mental health, anxiety, depression, or trauma.

Reach out today to schedule your free 15-minute consultation with Adele.

Tell Us More About You

What is EDPP Supervision? The El Duende process painting technique, originated by Abbe Miller, is a one-canvas painting that uses many layers built up over the supervision experience to enhance clinical learning. We offer supervision for Virginia LPCs and us-based Art therapists in qualifying states.

Individual Supervision: Laura offers individual supervision in person at our office in old town Alexandria, VA, or virtually. $110/Session. If your state has its own art therapy license (KY, MD, NJ, NY, TN, TX, AZ, LA, NH), hours will not count towards your credential. Please make sure you confirm exact requirements with your state board.

In-Person Supervision Group: Our in-person group meets monthly in Old Town and is open to therapists accruing hours for the Registered Art Therapist (ATR) credential and the Licensed Professional Counselor (LPC) license in Virginia. $200/4 Hours.

Virtual Supervision Group: Our virtual group meets monthly and is open to US-based art therapists in qualifying states. $200/4 hours. If your state has its own art therapy license (KY, MD, NJ, TN, TX, AZ, LA, NH), hours will not count towards your credential. Please make sure you confirm exact requirements with your state board.

Get in touch! send us an email at info@alexandriaarttherapy.com or fill out our interest form.

Blog Posts

If you don’t consider yourself to be a creative person, you may not be sure where to start. What exactly is “the creative process”? And how do you “surrender” to it?

Many people set out on a creative endeavor with a plan. You might want to paint in a particular style, or a particular subject. You might want to make a particular object. You might have an outline for a story you want to tell.

That’s a great place to start. But in order to surrender to the creative process, you have to be open to the unknown. More on exactly what that means in our latest blog.

Read the Blog