Seated around a low table, twelve small children work diligently to create ears out of clay... for their piggy banks. One look tells you that this is no ordinary art class. Where is the glitter glue? Where are the flattened foam squares and triangles in primary colors? These are the things we associate with art for the very young, and they are rarely absent.

       And these children are very young. They range from ages three to ten, and most are under five. Their work is stunning, each pig beautifully formed, and each one with its own endearing characteristic.

 

      I should know by now the miracles that Teacher Njeri can do with children and art, but I am amazed at the pigs and snap a couple of pictures, getting muddy fingerprints on my camera. I know from previous projects that the pigs will be hollow inside, but that right now they're filled with a wet paper body that each child made before starting.

              "Teacher Njeri, look at my pig's ears!" calls a small girl at the end of the table.

       "Oh, look at Sakurako's pig, everyone," says Njeri. Turn it all the way around, Sakurako. Aren't those ears beautiful!" Each child in turn is called upon to show his or her work. They beam with pride, each and every one of them.





      This year Njeri's art class is held on Thursday and Friday afternoons in Campbell.  Next years, she says, she'll have classes every afternoon. You can get more information through contacting the director through the Oasis School website.

 

       I arrive early to pick up my daughters, so I can spend some time watching them work, and absorbing the serene atmosphere of the classroom. My youngest daughter, four years old, is rolling a ball of clay between her palms. Next, she flattens it into a disk and pulls it into a point, using a little water from a small bowl. Then, with my help, she attaches the ear to the pig, who has an impish look on his snout already.
 
 


     

         I know the little pigs will be fired when they're done. Then the children will paint them and they'll have a second firing to fix the glaze. In the end, both of my daughters will proudly place a piggy bank on their dressers, and then I won't be able to leave change around the house without losing it. I won't mind.

       "Art is therapy for children," says Njeri. "Sometimes they come in here upset or hyper, and when they start to work with the clay, they have to find their center. They find who they are, and get solid in themselves as they do art."

       She works wonders with "troubled" kids, though Njeri doesn't like to label them as such. I know several parents who are very grateful to her for their "troubled" children's sakes.