During my lunch break at a local smoothie
store, I met a 3-year-old girl who was on an outing with her dad. They had just
ordered, and she contentedly colored on a coloring book as they waited for
their treats. Her blonde hair was held back with sparkley barrettes and her equally
sparkley sunglasses that had slipped down to the tip of her nose. While we
waited, she chattered happily about her color choices and wondered aloud was I
getting a smoothie, too? Her dad joined us, and I politely let him know that we
were visiting about her art work, and then wandered away to the nearby book
section. As I browsed, I heard her ask, “Dad, do you want to color too?” His was a
quick, dad-like reply, “no, I’d rather watch you.” And then almost as an
afterthought, he commanded, “be sure to color in the lines.” I turned from the
bookshelves and raised my eyebrows as we made eye contact over his daughter’s
head. “No.” I responded in defense of his daughter’s style, she was three years
old, after all. He looked surprised. He was speechless. Most likely, he probably
wished that I would mind my own business. “No.” I said again firmly, hoping
that my single word response would carry volumes. The truth is that I didn’t
have any other words to use just then. It wasn’t the time or the place to
introduce myself or to tell him that his command could turn into a life
time of his daughter’s attempts at perfectionism, a sure-fire cure for
creativity. At that moment, my wish was that the little girl would always color
outside the lines. I hoped that her dad would celebrate her uniqueness, and I
wanted him to give her permission to break the rules of coloring. That way,
even if she doesn’t change the big, wide world with her out-of-the-lines
coloring style, at least she’ll have a chance to be her natural-born creative
self.
