Who are your creative champions?
20+ years later, I’m still thinking about those affirming words from a school teacher
Hello you,
Well, we’re here. Well and truly in the year 2024. I hope it has started gently for you?
I have a question; If you look back over your life or even just last year, who were the people who championed your creativity and boosted your self-worth?
This is one of the prompts in Week 1 of Julia Cameron’s, The Artist’s Way, which I’ve dipped my toe into with the encouragement of
. The famous book is a 12-week course and Helen is generously running a read-along over on her Substack.I’m not putting pressure on myself to complete it all, but I’ve already got so much out of Week 1. Some of the prompts are pretty intense! But journaling about the people who have uplifted, supported and boosted me has been a real joy. Here is one anecdote from 11-year old Janelle which came back to me.
I am floating above the polished floor of the school hall. I breathe in deep and soar on top of the high notes, singing out the flowing ‘Amens’ at the top of my lungs.
Miss Garbutt has a giant grin on her face, reminding us to smile. This is the best we’ve ever done it, which is a good job because there is a VIP watching. The Bishop.
We lower our voices to a soft piano and watch for Miss Garbutt’s fingers letting us know when to clip the final ‘Amen’ to a finish.
There is a second of poised calm before rippled applause and chatter.
Now it’s time to slink back to class. I’m still shimmering inside from the joy and adrenaline of singing out in group harmony.
“Janelle?”
My heart jumps. I turn and see it’s Mr Hings, our geography teacher. The Bishop is on his right wearing his special hat and necklace.
“Yes?” I ask, tensing up. Usually, Mr Hings wears a track suit because PE is his main subject. But today he’s wearing a suit and tie, all smart for the Bishop’s visit. I didn’t even realise he knew my name.
“Can you come here please?”
The rest of the choir members file out of the hall behind me. I’m very alone now without the safety of the crowd.
My thoughts spin. Am I in trouble? Does he need my help with something?
I walk up to him, my rucksack strap twisted on my blazer shoulder-pad.
“Yes sir?”
“Janelle, you have a beautiful singing voice,” he says.
I swallow. How does he know? How could he hear me? We were all just singing together in the junior choir.
“Oh,” I say, not knowing where to look or what face to make. “Thank you.”
“Really. You’re very talented,” he adds. “Have you always been able to sing like that?”
I nod, forgetting to breathe. “I think so.” Like what? I was just doing what all the other sopranos were doing.
“Well, you must keep doing it. Well done, Janelle.” My neck is bent back as he is so tall. His smile is wide and warm. “Right, off you go back to lesson.”
I turn on my rubber heel, head through the double-doors of the school hall and up the creaky wooden steps to class.
It’s then I realise that I’m smiling. Mr Hings’ words are echoing and settling on me like twinkling stars.
Mr Hings knows who I am. Out of all those people on the platforms singing, he heard me. He said I have a lovely voice. Me!?
I pull in my chair quietly and get out my pencil case and Hello Kitty backed exercise book. I don’t tell a soul.
Thinking back to this moment still brings such warmth. Young Janelle adored singing but she also found safety by blending in, keeping small and not sticking her head above the parapet. Young Janelle quietly got on with life at big school. Never the best, never the worst, always good. The definition of a wallflower, she was right that most teachers didn’t really know who she was.
So, when Mr Hings singled her out that day from the crowd. Really saw her, heard her and took the time to let her know, something shifted a little inside her. A little bit of confidence and self-belief took root.
It would be a long time before she stepped forward out of the safety of the crowd, but that moment of validation from Mr Hings was surely a contributing factor.
That moment was more than twenty years ago. He will have no memory of it, a fleeting comment of thousands he will have made throughout his teaching career.
But I have never ever forgotten it. I feel emotional thinking back to it now.
Who were your creative champions? Perhaps a teacher, a family member, maybe even a stranger? Please do share in the comments if you’d like to. I just love hearing these.
And how wonderful to think that maybe you are someone else’s creative champion, or perhaps you can be in future.
I very much hope I can bring a glimmer of that to others moving forward.
Wishing you a creatively playful and abundant year.
Janelle x
I didn't find mine until I went back to college and then uni, in my late twenties. I think my teachers in school deemed to be a very average child and not really worth that much effort.
But, then I went back to college and found Karen and Grace, two teachers who made me believe I was creative and could go to uni. And then Sally, my uni tutor, who made me see that I was creative and that I could post my work and be vulnerable and real. And that I and my work mattered. I will never forget any of them.
This is a beautiful reflection and a lovely reminder of the long lasting positive impact our words and actions can have on others.
I have a wonderful friend, Maria, who is my creative champion. We don’t see each other very often, but when we do I always come away feeling inspired and guided by her in a gentle, encouraging way.
Do you still sing in a choir, Janelle?