Besides writing and posting last week's blog post (and quickly looking up an address), this is the first time I have opened my computer in a week. I haven't even played in Canva to generate social media posts. Yes, this is absolutely unprecedented for me. Even when I took a month-long break this summer, I was still on my laptop in creation mode (writing, graphic designing, etc.).

During this holiday break, I re-rediscovered a different kind of creativity. About this time last year, I was trying to fix a large mural I had started when Kenzie left home. Out of frustration with the lack of the right colors of paint, I treated myself to a new set through (Dick) Blick Art supplies. Then, as soon as the lovely tubes of fresh acrylics arrived, the inspiration - up and left.

The small blue crate of supplies sat in the corner for the whole year until Christmas Eve when I moved the bed out of the way, found a yogurt bucket for water, used the lid for a palette, and began playing with paint again.

I'm happy to report that I quickly fell into the groove I initially summoned as a teenager, sitting on the art room desks with my first canvas in front of me.

That first painting was an 18" x 24" copy of a forest scene that Mrs. Sennett, my art teacher, provided as a guide. I will always recall the feeling of awe and relief when she let me explore the possibilities of that single canvas while sitting cross-legged on top of those desks for months on end - while the other students moved on from one project to another.

Even though my lone talent lies in depicting trees, vines, and grass, she instilled my love for playing with paint (something I often forget but eventually return to) because she just let me be for that entire semester.

It is hard to describe where my mind goes when I paint - except to say it is magical.  Mrs. Sennett helped me discover that extraordinary place that lives in me where time disappears and imagination, ingenuity, and playfulness rule - a place I visit every time I am in creative (problem-solving) mode.

While I am lost in that miraculous space - I come up with my best ideas - most of which are not directly related to the project in front of me but are a collection of seemingly independent thoughts that were swirling, twirling, and taunting me just out of reach, impatiently waiting for those moments of quiet inspiration to coalesce. The trick is to capture them and jump in to make them happen before they disappear into the ether once again.

I had the incredible privilege of seeing Mrs. Sennett again just before the pandemic while she was packing up her home in Potsdam. She had called DRC to let me know she had set aside some art books from her collection for me and wanted me to come and get them. During our prolonged conversation punctuated with hugs, I expressed how much she has inspired my philosophy throughout my 22-year career in alternative education and how grateful I was for her mentorship.

All those years ago, she stood back quietly, gently guiding the process and allowing me to fully be my weird, misfit self - utterly oblivious to the chaos around me - lost in the pure pleasure of mixing pigment, painting trees, and giving my imagination free rein. It is because of her that I felt comfortable, accepted, and seen in a place that normally did the very opposite. With profound gratitude and understanding of that beautiful gift, I consciously offer my DRC kiddos the same.

We each have a different definition of home. For some, it is a specific place; for others, it may be another person or a feeling with no particular location attached. No matter how you explain it, most would say it invokes the sensation of comfort, safety, and warmth - a space and time where you can be your authentic self.

This past week, a teen returned to DRC a year after trying school again (without success). As soon as they walked in and pulled me into a hug, they said, "I remember this smell. It smells like 'old house'." (A valid observation considering 48 Riverside Dr. is over 150 yrs. old.) That, apparently, is a pleasant odor for them.

Most of our memories are indeed connected to smells. For this teen, that first whiff triggered all the other feelings they associated with DRC. They immediately revisited the joy of jumping in, reconnecting, and expressing themselves freely without fear of judgment or ridicule. For them, this is clearly home.

When people ask what we do, our response will always be that we are creating an alternative educational space and community, together, where everyone feels welcome, appreciated, and at home. Once we achieve this, everything else naturally aligns. Because, we understand that learning occurs when individuals feel accepted, connected, and safe.

Welcome home, BL!

This week before winter break went by in a blur - again. Outside, kitchen, and art room adventures were plentiful.

Sadly, we needed to again cancel this past week's Pop-ups. Janine will see everyone on January 8th at the Nicandri Nature Center. Notice the new Pop-ups' schedule; they will now be meeting on Wednesdays and Thursdays each week.

The title for this one was a comment I received from a customer service rep. during a very long phone call to the NYS of Health Market Place on Wednesday morning.

As you can imagine, I wasn't in the brightest of moods after paying out of pocket when I discovered that our health insurance coverage was still messed up during my second attempt within a month to check in for my eye exam. Which then necessitated the call.

If my being merely pleasant through my frustration and sensory overload (and intense dislike for phone calls) was enough to trigger the agent to say, "Thank you for being human," it leads me to wonder what kind of verbal abuse she endures every day. (Not to leave you hanging - she did find & resolve the issue - I hope.)

I am utterly baffled and disgusted by the notion of blundering angrily through life mistreating and disrespecting anyone who has a difference of opinion, works in a low-level public-facing position, or someone who, through no fault of their own, happens to be in the way of getting what you want.

A few months ago, on my trip into town, a big (a$$) truck passed me on a double line going up a hill (those who know my inclination for speed understand that I was going at least 60mph). The first thought that flew into my head was, "Your Stupid is Showing," quickly followed by the second, after driving by a few political lawn signs (you know the ones), "Your Hypocrisy is Showing."

When I got home later that day, I was so obsessed with these two phrases and what they represented that I pulled up my trusty Canva and designed two bumper stickers. I even generated "Under Your Breath Media" as a company name to distribute them. Cause I knew if I spent any amount of time in creation mode, I could come up with dozens more.

Then my common sense and decency kicked in, and I realized, no matter how enticing in the moment, there was no way, as the face of an organization that models and promotes respect and kindness, I could put disparaging negativity out in the world.

After giving myself a good talking to, I created "Psst, Your Brilliance is Showing" and "Hey, Your Kindness is Showing." These two encouraging phrases can be found on youth & adult hoodies and tees in our Printify Shop.

They may not completely satisfy my occasional tendency toward snarky irreverence, but they do inject some much-needed feel-good positivity into our lives.

Shine on!

PS - I would happily pass on the original designs and 'Under Your Breath Media" to anyone interested in running with the idea. Because - honestly, those bumper stickers would come in extremely handy when we encounter the varied levels of idiocy out here.

Unfortunately, after the ice event that necessitated closing on Tuesday, the promised lake-effect snow never appeared in Canton. However, we made the best of it with plenty of indoor adventures - including baking and cooking, fixing a computer that we thought was dead and researching how to reset another one, getting inventive in the art room, and exploring a game that requires a lot of initial creativity.

Due to unforeseen circumstances, the Pop-ups were cancelled this past week. Janine is looking forward to seeing everyone next week at the Massena & Norwood Libraries.

Looking into the future - The Pop-up schedule is changing a bit - see below.

Please consider an end of year gift to Deep Root Center.  Thank you!

There have been a few instances over the last month when I have sadly been reminded how short a life-time really is and how quickly time passes. I realized this morning that my maternal grandparents were my current age when I graduated from high school and went off to college (the first time), and I thought they were old - then!

In the 1970s, when I was a teen, I enjoyed looking at old photographs of my grandparents from the 1940s and my parents from the 1960s when they were young and newly married. I was fascinated by how old-fashioned and stylishly formal they appeared—the cars, hairstyles, and their clothing all portrayed in black-and-white photography. I wonder if my adult children see photos of me and their father from the 1990s as antiquated as I viewed those older images.

Thirty years is a blip - when considered from the present.

However, conceptualizing time as transient is inconceivable when you are stuck in a difficult or tedious situation, making it seem like an eternity.

Understanding that these two conflicting notions of time are thoroughly dependent upon circumstances and state of mind influences how intensely conscious I am of my personal choices. This - along with my PDA profile (Persistent Drive for Autonomy, otherwise known as Pathological Demand Avoidance) and my desire to spend my duration focused on all the many things that bring me joy - determine most of my decisions.

So many spend their lives in school or work - watching the clock and wishing their days away. I am beyond fortunate to have the leeway to decide that I would not be tied to a job waiting for someone else to tell me what to do. (Not that I would listen, anyway.)

In my role as founder of Deep Root Center, my mission is to spread awareness that self-direction is innate. We are all born with that persistent drive for autonomy - but many are trained out of it by the cultural and societal need for acceptance and "normalcy."  

When I witness kids taking charge of their education and life - actively choosing the activities and projects they, not an authority figure or society, find interesting and worth their time, I get excited for them and their future.  

On the other side, it is heartbreaking to witness young people internally fight the concept of autonomy, even when given the opportunity, and go back to the safety of a coercive, predictable, and culturally acceptable environment.  

Time is precious but deceptive. Honoring every second doesn't slow it down or make distressing moments easier; however, it does make the tough or unconventional choice to be authentically yourself in a sea of uniformity gratifyingly worth it.

We had a week with low numbers because several kids were out sick. Among other things, those that were at the Center happily embraced winter and our first snow.

Janine reports that the Pop-ups Crew had a great time this week. They focused on project collaborations and self-directed independent pursuits. Thank you to the Massena & Norwood Public Libraries for hosting us.