No Coloring Books, Please

When I was attending Utah State University, I took a class from an aged Doctor of Music. One day in class, he was discussing something with us that seemed rather unusual to me. I can still recall the somewhat wistful sound in his voice and, mind you, he was not a sentimental man to begin with, when he said that the best tone he had ever heard from any saxophone player in his fifty-plus years of teaching, had come from a young boy he had taught at the University who had never had a lesson in his life but had learned to play the instrument with a book and an old phonograph record. The boy would listen to the record and imitate the sound, then study in the book to learn the notes. My teacher said that there was no other player he had ever met with that could match this boy's ability. This one-of-a-kind boy was unique in this teacher's music career and he was visibly sad that there was only one.

In an article on early childhood education, Susan Striker said: "Please, never give a child coloring books, dot-to-dot, magic paint with water or similar anti-art toys. These items are counterproductive and children can become dependent on them very quickly. It is through these kinds of art activities that we inadvertently rob children of self-confidence and joy in producing their own work. Coloring books are often kids' first experience with anything resembling art. They are presented as art projects, but in fact, they are the worst possible introduction to art. In a child's mind, how could their drawing ever look as perfect as something drawn by an adult? The impact goes beyond art. This kind of exercise stifles creative and independent thinking in general.“

Now, what do a saxophone player and a coloring book have in common? Well, have you ever tried to do something daring or different, something that maybe other people were afraid to do and someone you know happened to be nearby when you began the attempt and they looked at you askance and said something like: “What are you trying to do?” The eyebrows go up and they raise their voice so that everyone within earshot can hear the question until suddenly everyone is mocking and pointing fingers. Unfortunately this happens all the time. Whether you play the saxophone or draw or color or just play Tiddly Winks there seems to be no shortage of critics who insist that you color within the lines.

I recall the story of an Olympic runner, Eric Liddell, who ran with a most unusual style. He didn't have a professional coach, but he ran for the love of it, and simply did it the way that came easiest for him. He was, by the way, highly successful in the1924 Olympics. But to me, his greater success was in living his life his own way, even at the expense of being laughed at. Too often we try so hard to color within the lines, or to play our instrument to please the teacher that we forget who we are. Independent individuals do not color in the lines, nor do they play to the teacher. From the article by Susan Striker again: “If a children are exposed to coloring books and other "rules," by the time they are in third grade or earlier, they become hesitant and afraid to draw on a blank piece of paper because in their mind, it won't look as good as the outlined sheets and coloring books on which they have worked and been praised.” I have witnessed this phenomenon in my own children. I combat it with a blank piece of paper.

If you want to learn something or do something, do it. Do it in your own way or the way that seems best to you. Most often, this is the road to success. After all, when was the last time you saw an art exhibit displaying someone's 'marvelous paint-by-number' work? So it is with anything. Yes, you need to be prepared for people to laugh a little when you step out of the lines to do your work because most people have lived their lives just coloring within the lines. They laughed at Columbus, Edison, Galileo, Michelangelo, Mozart, and Eric Liddell. But no one is laughing at them now.