BROKEN CRAYONS STILL COLOR

Guest Contributor: Bethany Harper from Crayons to Confidence

 It was a normal day as a kindergarten teacher.

Glue sticks. Glitter. Always a mess on the table.

Never enough time in the day, and always more talking than I’d like there to be, but my only request for my life had been that it wouldn’t be boring.

And it wasn’t.

Kids are unpredictable. Which is what makes my life so great. I get to spend all day with kids – the most curious, energetic, and unpredictable tiny humans on the planet.

But there is one thing that’s always predictable in kindergarten.

Conflict. 

 

It follows them everywhere, because they don’t yet have the social skills they need to resolve it. They don’t always have the words to fix it verbally, nor the problem solving skills to come up with the most effective solution.

So when I heard the scream from the back of classroom, I braced myself.

“MISS HARPER!” the voice shrieked, “MONICA BROKE MY CRAYON!”

The usual chaos ensued. It was a symphony of “no I didn’t!” and “yes she did!” and “uh huh, I saw her!” and “ohhhh, you’re gonna get in trouble.”

I walked over calmly, half numb to these occasions by now, and joined the partners at their table.

I initiated turn taking. I received both sides of the story. And I met them with my favorite question.

“Okay. So what now?”

 

 The two brainstormed lots of things together, from taping the crayon back together to Monica trading James’s broken crayon for her unbroken one.

All were strong five-year-old conclusions, but I wanted the two children to reach a solution on their own. And it was taking a rather long time.

Finally, someone else noticed the time we were wasting trying to fix this little crayon, which was shaping up to be quite the impossible task.

The meek little new girl, who had only been in our class for a week, spoke up for the first time. She walked over quietly, took the Crayola pieces back from Monica, slowly handed them to James and said, “It’s okay, James,” she patted him twice on the back and continued, “Broken crayons still color.”

And he just turned to her and said, “Huh. I guess you’re right.”

And everyone just went back to working.

I was stunned at the impact of the statement, which was lost on little James. Broken crayons still color.

A million things flooded my mind:

My own struggles with weight and positive body image.

My inability to take adequate care of myself.

My inability to see my own worth.

My former heartbreaks.

My introversion.

My sheer lack of confidence.

          The list could go on and on.

Because I was broken. Aren’t we all? Broken like that little crayon that was split in two pieces from being under the stress of two five-year-olds fighting.

But the quiet girl who mustered up more confidence in that moment than she had her entire week of being in class spoke the four words of reassurance that I’d waited 23 years to hear; four words that would keep me going in times of uncertainty, self doubt, and insecurity.

          Broken crayons still color.

          That is so incredibly important that we remember.

We do not need to always be whole, or perfect, or even pretty for that matter. We do not need to be these things to fulfill our purposes in life.

We don’t need fancy clothes, or an elaborate life story.

We don’t have to be a grown up.

But we don’t have to stay young.

We have to be ourselves, and if our own self is broken, we need to own

that about ourselves.

We don’t need to hide, or run away, or dull our sparkle down.

Because we all still color. No matter what.