Sometimes, life presents us with situations we don’t expect, moments that leave us feeling deeply moved, troubled, and, at times, overwhelmed. I recently had such a moment when a young man reached out to me, unexpectedly, seeking a conversation online with a perfect stranger, that turned into a heart-wrenching story of struggle, addiction, and criminal activity.
This young man was in his twenties, in despair because dealing with house arrest after a recent burglary. He described how he had been caught in a cycle of drug addiction since the age of 16 and that he was ashamed of his life. His life had spiraled into crime, and now, he found himself at a point where he could not see a future beyond addiction.
I listened to his story, without interacting much. I had the feeling that human being on the other side of the planet simply needed someone to talk to and who would listen to him without judgment. He filled his story with graphic details of violence and moments that felt almost too horrific to imagine. At one point, he spoke of how his group had attempted to burn another person, an image that left me feeling and emotionally physically shaken. He was lost, trapped in a life where the possibility of change seemed unimaginable. I felt utterly powerless to help him, and yet, I wanted so deeply to offer something—anything—that might give him hope.
In the conversation, he said something that stuck with me: “Maybe I should write a book about my story.” I immediately encouraged him to do so, suggesting that writing might help him process the weight of his experiences and reflect on who he wants to become, especially if that book would have a happy ending. But even as I made that suggestion, it became clear that writing—processing his thoughts and emotions—was not a skill he had ever acquired. And I became aware that he was not going after a happy ending, but after a life of luxury he will probably never achieve.
It struck me then how powerful education, especially creative education, can be. The ability to express ourselves, to process trauma through writing, music, or any form of creativity, is something so fundamental to emotional and cognitive development. Yet, here was a young man who had never had access to these tools. Without them, he had no way to manage his pain, no means to reflect on his life or envision a different future.
The Weight of Empathy and the Power of Silence
After the conversation ended, I felt drained. My heart was heavy, and I was in tears for the horribly reality that had been just shared with me. The weight of this young man’s story stayed with me overnight, lingering like a shadow. In that moment, I had the urge to reach out to someone else, to relieve myself of the burden of what I had just heard.
But then as I was typing the message, I stopped myself. I remembered the teachings of Thich Nhat Hanh, who speaks of how we often pass our pain on to others, unconsciously spreading it, instead of cultivating it within ourselves. In that moment of overwhelming emotion, I stopped myself. Instead of offloading the pain, I allowed myself to sit with it, reflect on it, and transform it into something deeper.
The power of silence and self-reflection in such moments is incredible. Instead of reacting by passing the burden on, we have the ability to pause, breathe, and hold space for our own emotions. I let the pain blossom into reflection, allowing it to shape my thoughts on what creative education means—not only in helping people develop cognitive skills, but in offering them the tools to process, heal, and grow.
The Value of Creative Expression in Difficult Times
So many of my students have found ways to process difficult emotions through music, and I’ve seen how powerful these tools can be. For this young man, the absence of such outlets had left him unable to channel his pain in constructive ways.
What if he had been introduced to music, art, or writing as a child? What if he had learned to use these tools to navigate his struggles, rather than falling deeper into addiction and crime? Creative education is not just about developing a skill—it’s about giving individuals the means to understand themselves, express their emotions, and find healing.
As educators, mentors, or even just as people in a position to listen, we cannot always offer immediate solutions, but we can offer tools. Encouraging creativity, offering a way to reflect and process emotions, can be the first step toward change.
Embracing Reflection, Rather Than Passing on Pain
I could have reached out to a friend to relieve myself of the emotional weight that conversation left with me, but I chose not to. Instead, I took the advice of Thich Nhat Hanh and embraced the pain as a moment for personal growth. It’s important to recognize when we need to sit with our own emotions and reflect on how to transform them into something that helps us grow.
In my work, both as an educator and in my personal life, I have chosen to cultivate this ability—to not only teach technical skills but to offer students and those I connect with the tools to navigate their reality, to transform it, and to grow.
We may not always have the power to change someone else’s circumstances, but we can offer compassion, the tools for creative expression, and the space for reflection.