Picnics at the National Mall: Every Day is the 4th of July!

Every Spring locals in Washington, DC, observe a phenomenon on the first warm day of the year akin to a flutter of butterflies simultaneously emerging from their cocoons. Outdoor dining chairs and tables suddenly appear on sidewalk patios of restaurants and are quickly filled by cheerful patrons enlivened with good food and restorative doses of sunshine and fresh air. Before our son was born, my husband and I certainly enjoyed our share of outdoor dining experiences just a few blocks from home. While our restaurant budget has since diminished, we happily still find ways to dine alfresco with a picnic in the park. Whether its a little snack for our immediate family or a larger potluck meal with friends, its always worth the extra time it takes to pull it all together.

There are so many pluses to having a family picnic that I even saw a chapter devoted to it in a parenting book. Of course the main benefit is sharing time with friends and family in a relaxed setting that is conducive to quiet conversation or active play, whichever fits your mood. It is also an opportunity for your child to experience the outdoors, possibly exploring part of a park you have never visited before, and develop friendships socializing with children of other families. And from a thrifty parent's standpoint, a potluck picnic is a great way to save a few pennies while exposing your child to new culinary adventures.

Most Washingtonians have celebrated at least one Independence Day down on the National Mall, but we assert our constitutional freedom to peacefully assemble (with family and friends for a picnic) there on a more regular basis. We have three favorite picnic spots near the National Mall, all within easy walking distance of the Smithsonian Metro station. One is on the grounds of the Mall itself, close to the Smithsonian Carousel at 1000 Jefferson Drive, SW. This is the best place to throw down a big blanket and cooler for a large group picnic. A few large trees provide shade here, but it is smart to pack sunscreen as you will likely spend time in the sun. Wide grassy areas lend plenty of room for kicking around a soccer ball, throwing a Frisbee or even flying a kite after lunch. Kids can be kids and make as much noise as they like in this vibrant public space. Leashed dogs are welcome, too. Tickets for the carousel, open 10-5 daily (except Christmas), are $2.50 per rider and worth every penny to a child. The carousel features sixty Dentzel horses, two chariots, a spinner tub, and one very popular dragon. It was built in 1947 and relocated to the National Mall from Baltimore, MD in 1981.

The National Gallery of Art Sculpture Garden, across the National Mall opposite the Smithsonian Carousel, at 7th Street and Constitution Avenue, NW, offers shady picnic spots appropriate for small groups. Enjoy your lunch while sitting in the grass under a canopy of flowering trees, shrubs and perennials within view of modern and contemporary sculpture installations, including Roy Lichtenstein's illusionary House I and Louise Bourgeois' colossal, bronze Spider. A cooling fountain at the center of the Garden is surrounded by additional seating areas. We spent a few minutes tossing pieces of leftover sandwich bread to the Mallard ducks swimming there. You may also take advantage of the public restrooms at the Pavilion Cafe, a pleasant alternative to the portable toilets available on the Mall grounds. Pets are not permitted, so leave Fido at home if you choose to picnic here rather than on the Mall. Sculpture Garden hours are Monday through Saturday from 10 to 5 and Sunday from 11 to 6, mid-March to Memorial Day.

My last recommendation is for the public gardens behind the Smithsonian Castle. Picnics are not permitted on the grass to protect the delicate plants, but plenty of outdoor seating on benches is available for a brown bag snack with your immediate family. Take the time to stroll along the garden pathways to choose the perfect seating area and admire the elaborate flower beds and hanging baskets, 19th century cast-iron furnishings and reproduction lampposts and the turn-of-the century urns in the Haupt Garden. Consider resting along pink granite benches in the Moongate Garden, inspired by Chinese gardens and architecture, or upon one of four Victorian benches surrounding a cast iron fountain in the sweetly fragrant Folger Rose Garden. As you tour the Haupt Garden, it is fun to realize that you are actually walking atop the roof of the subterranean National Museum of African Art and Sackler Gallery.

Admission is free to all three locations, so don't wait until July to start planning a family picnic!

Mother as Muse

Hermann Hesse's Narcissus and Goldmund, a profound epic describing the dichotomous nature of the life of an artist, is one of the few novels I have read several times in my life (most get one chance, then I'm on to another must-read). In my first post, "Living the Impossible Life", I introduced myself with a favorite quote from the character Goldmund. A sculptor, Goldmund uses the term "bliss" to convey the state of mind he seeks both as a student of religion, an artist engaged in the creative process, and as a man traveling the world in search of his muse. He looks to God and to the image of his mother, his own creators, for inspiration and ultimately accepts that his artistic development, life experience and happiness are integral. He cannot fully realize one without also nurturing and making sacrifices for the other.

Minimalist sculptor Anne Truitt's (d. 2004) Daybook: The Journey of an Artist is another book I have been compelled to reexamine. My appreciation of her whole life, the public life of a successful artist and the private life of a Washingtonian, changed significantly after my son was born. I now understand the weightiness of her seemingly simple decision that dirty dishes remain unwashed in the kitchen sink during childrens' nap times; she seized the opportunity to work in her home art studio at the expense of tidy appearances. But more stirring was her disclosure that her early pieces, sculptures of the "marked, used" female form, "failed" in her estimation. Having been misdiagnosed as sterile and told she would never have children, Truitt was haunted by this physical "deprivation" and feared that her work would lack the "vital force" of assimilated experience. Reflecting back on life during her 50's, she asserted that her career was the only enterprise she made successful entirely by herself, but her three children were her "greatest blessings".

Family and home have long been pervasive themes in my artwork, whether it be capturing images of relatives and close friends or scenes from the neighborhood. But I returned to Hesse's and Truitt's writings for a little perspective after a month during which I infrequently raised a camera to my eye. Instead of documenting AS's every new accomplishment in pictures, I exhausted my reserves in hot pursuit of a toddler boy who very much wants to wander and explore, often into harm's way (not so unlike Hesse's Goldmund). The artist in me, for whom creating is vital to well-being, needed gentle reminding that my son and I are collaborating in the most creative endeavor, his development.

Gretchen Ruben, an urban Mom and author of The Happiness Project, deduces that mementos help prompt positive memories and that "recalling happy times helps boost happiness in the present". So, instead of fretting about the serious art that is not getting made since I left the teaching profession to be a SAHM, I try to remember all that I have accomplished during my first momentous year as Artful Mom. I pull out an album of our mementos, snapshot photos I have diligently taken and archived, and place it on the floor. AS sits in my lap and helps turn the pages. He identifies the faces of his parents and grandparents and flashes smiles of recognition at his own image. We love looking at the photographs together, and this motivates me to pick up my camera again. While I take pictures of AS, he experiments with an old 2.0 megapixel compact point-and-shoot. Digital cameras designed for kids are available in toy and camera stores, but this hand-me-down seems to do the trick. AS already knows, from seeing his parents model the behavior, how to hold it and push the shutter release button. He immediately looks at his LED screen for playback of the digital image and shows it to me. A third book comes comes to mind, Show and Tell, containing photos of city life by artist Thomas Roma with written commentary by his son Giancarlo who was eight years old at the time. Giancarlo selected the pictures to be used for the book and thereby turned the process of creating it "into a dialog between father and son".

That afternoon, we look at newsworthy pix from an on-line gallery at WashingtonPost.com. It proves to be a great opportunity to introduce AS to new vocabulary and help him see the most basic elements of an image, such as colors and shapes, which I point out or trace with my finger. This is similar to our experience of looking at photographs together at the Newseum or in the West Building at the National Gallery of Art. As I carried AS on my hip from room to room to view the prints on display, I talked to him in clear language about important details, including features of people's faces and clothing. AS enjoyed seeing the images from my eye level (as opposed to the lower vantage point of the stroller), and I was able to keep his interest by talking animatedly and gesturing to parts of the pictures. While we were at the NGA, I overheard a wonderful mother of three older children, probably between ages 5 and 9. She asked her kids a variety of short questions about the pictures, praised their responses, and modeled good learning practices by reading information provided by the museum to answer her childrens' questions when she didn't already know the answer. A book I later discovered in the juvenile section of our library, Tell Me a Picture by Quentin Blake, provides examples of questions parents can ask their children about art.

Documentary photography, maybe more than any other type of photographic imagery, seems to have immediate appeal for young people. Perhaps this is because kids can better relate to images made directly from their world. In the 1980's, Jim Hubbard, an acclaimed professional photographer, began documenting lives of the homeless in Washington, DC, and found children he photographed especially eager to look through his camera's viewfinder. Many of these children were from low income families that suddenly fell upon hard times, such as the death of a parent or a parent's loss of a job, and were at risk of being lured into gangs and illegal activities. Hubbard was motivated to establish, "Shooting Back", a program to help children in shelters develop skills to increase their self esteem and to learn about legitimate career possibilities. I often shared a documentary film about "Shooting Back" with my own students to raise their social awareness and prompt them to act.

In 2002, I had the pleasure of attending a workshop for DC educators at the Corcoran Gallery of Art by photographer, teacher and author, Wendy Ewald. Ewald has helped build darkrooms and bring the power of photography to disadvantaged children and their communities all over the world. She discovered that children, "insiders" in their communities, often take more emotionally compelling photographs of their families and neighborhoods than do professionals who are "outsiders". Ewald applied for grants to purchase Polaroid instant cameras and film for the children, empowering them to find their own voices and to become ambassadors for their communities.

The success of Hubbard's and Ewald's efforts with children motivated me to begin a mentorship program at the high school where I taught. Teenagers in the advanced photography courses were challenged to apply their knowledge of photography and writing to teach elementary school students, for whom English was often their family's second language. We used the childrens' own images of home life, captured with simple Kodak one-time-use film cameras, to inspire their creative writing and help improve their literacy. One of my high school seniors adapted this program for the Best Buddies chapter at our school, creating friendship and learning opportunities for people with intellectual and developmental disabilities. She is now teaching photography to inner city kids in Baltimore using inexpensive, plastic Holga cameras while she completes her degree in special education at Gaucher College.

These personal experiences, however, did not completely prepare me for how to introduce the magic of photography to my very young son. Nor did a quick tour of photography websites for kids on the web (Google: "teaching kids photography"). So I looked to my original role models, my sensitive, right-brained parents. Art-making became intrinsic to my life in early childhood due to their efforts and understanding of it's value. Mom encouraged my natural interests by keeping art materials and books on hand, enrolling me in classes and, most importantly, earnestly participating in art and craft projects with me. My father and paternal grandfather were avid amateur photographers who also shared their equipment, knowledge and enthusiasm with me. I first fell in love with drawing for its immediacy as I urgently recorded the real world and shared the stuff of my imagination. As a teen, I inherited a small, portable single lens reflex camera and created lasting images of beloved people, places and things, reconnecting with them through the process. Smitten, I went on to earn a BFA in Photography before earning my teaching certification in Art K-12.

As an artist, I found encouragement in knowing that I could not fail to make important images if I was photographing my family. As a teacher, I led by example and shared my work with students as they shared theirs with me. In this way, we learned more about one another and about Art. My mantra, photograph what you are passionate about. If an image ultimately lacks artistic relevance, it will still have personal value. This is the thing I want most to share with my son about art-making, the special and limitless rewards of following your bliss.

Raising Art-smart Cyberkids

There is a computer in the children's section at our neighborhood library that is loaded with educational software. Now that my son can walk, he makes a bee-line for it as soon as we arrive. Here we are surrounded by hundreds of beautifully written and illustrated books, but he wants to play with a computer. If it is not already in use he climbs up into the desk chair, makes a grab for the mouse or starts tapping away at the keys. Often, though, another child is playing one of the spelling, math, drawing or music games, and AS contentedly watches. When this first happened, my heart sank a little. Then I reminded myself that 19th century critics were initially skeptical about the applications of the newly invented camera (a "soul-less" black box) until master artists and scientists showed them photography's full potential as a medium for creative expression and learning not unlike a paint brush or a book.

Now I sit down beside AS at the library's computer and use digital painting tools to draw animals with basic shapes that he can identify and label by name, "Cat!", or with a sound, "Meow!". When he eventually loses interest in looking at the PC monitor, we go in search of similar subjects in some of my favorite children's books, such as Geoff Waring's Oscar and the Bird, by illustrators who use Photoshop computer software. I hope a seed of understanding will eventually begin to germinate and help AS form connections between the process of drawing animals with a computer mouse and the images he sees in published books like Waring's illustrations of Oscar the cat.

Our tech-savvy librarian has also hipped me to the fact that some children's book authors and illustrators have launched their own kid-friendly interactive websites. Mo Willems' site features games, art activities and video animations with his famous book characters, including Pigeon, Knuffle Bunny and Elephant & Piggie.

Last week, I received a phone call from my 8 year-old niece asking for help with a multi-player on-line computer game, Poptropica. Poptropica is a safe, virtual world designed by the Family Education Network (a network of educational resources for teachers, parents, and students on the internet) where kids engage in narrative quests that are both entertaining and informative. My niece had entered into a virtual art gallery and needed to match reproductions of paintings with the name of the style in which they were rendered, such as a Pablo Picasso piece with the style "Cubism". She was able to describe the images to me in enough detail that I could envision the paintings and help her successfully complete the task. She was enjoying learning about art, and I was glad to have an opportunity to play along with her.

These experiences recalled a discussion I heard pertaining to the pros and cons of children playing on-line games. Some parents and teachers express concerns that young people who sit in front of the computer for hours every day are more sedentary and have less social interaction than those who are encouraged to play sports or engage in other activities with friends. On the plus side, computer games can motivate reluctant learners by presenting educational content in an entertaining framework and provide a participatory alternative to passive television viewing.

I wondered if there were websites with free on-line gaming options that could teach us more about the city in which we live as my son and I explore them together. I discovered that the Smithsonian Institute, for one, has a Smithsonian Education site to familiarize kids, families and educators with the museum collections, special exhibitions, and upcoming events designed with young people in mind. You may explore different topics that are of interest to your student, "Everything Art", "Science and Nature", "History and Culture" or "People and Places", through interactive games and activities. Or, navigate directly to the Smithsonian Kids page for more on-line fun, such as matching games, trivia quizzes, crossword puzzles, art-making, and home or school project ideas.

The youngest computer users may especially appreciate the National Gallery of Art's interactive website NGAkids "Art Zone". Since a child must develop mark-making ("bang-dots" and scribbles, the most rudimentary visual symbols), prior to forming the controlled lines and shapes that become letters of the alphabet and subsequently the written language, demonstrating and learning how to click and drag a computer mouse to create images is a worthwhile collaborative activity for a parent and child.

The brazen young Dada artists of the first half of the 20th century embraced technology. In the Yellow Manifesto of 1928, the Dadaists proclaimed, "Machinism has revolutionized the world." It seems that nearly a century later many of us are still trying to make peace with youths' manifest fascination with machines, but playing interactive on-line games from the Smithsonian Institution and the National Gallery of Art is one way for families to have fun learning about new digital media together.