Broken Art

From the Heart

Broken, imperfect seashell filled with tiny holes

When I was young, my family spent a lot of time at the beach. My husband and I have continued that tradition with our own children. Last summer, while walking along the Atlantic Ocean’s edge, I thought about these nostalgic childhood memories.

Although most beach-combers may look for perfect shells, I found a rough, broken shell that is filled with hundreds of tiny holes. The beauty displayed within the broken piece reminded me of my less-than-picture-book-perfect history. But over time, life’s disappointments and wounds have perfectly formed me into the kind of artist I am today—a creative person who identifies with and cares about those who are hurting.

I actually collected two broken beach shells to display in my studio. But while my friend was visiting my studio, she was drawn to the rare beauty of the broken seashells. So, I gave her one of my found treasures to encourage her through her recent cancer battle. A couple of months later, after recovering, my friend told me that she had since passed along the broken shell to someone else, who was struggling through a divorce.

I was very surprised to learn that a relic I had originally collected to display in my studio had taken on a new purpose as a symbol of hope. After discussing our own brokenness, the disappointments, struggles, and wounds, my friend and I both wondered: How many more individuals would be touched with healing as the broken shell is passed from one hurting friend to another?

Passing on seashell

Redemptive Art

Behind the Artwork

Swatches of red denim for use in Red Jeans Redemption project

The catalytic response from visitors surrounding my ArtPrize work caught the attention of the internationally known artist Makoto Fujimura. In 2014, Mako wrote, “Pamela Alderman’s installation The Scarlet Cord at the Ford Presidential Museum is attracting thousands. Her work of paintings combined with participatory, Yoko Ono-like installations hit home, and the lines for her exhibit grew longer every day. What Pamela experienced, and what ArtPrize made possible, is an extraordinary success by any measure.”

Through Mako’s insights, I have continued to expand my work, which taps into the healing power of art to help individuals flourish. He also helped me hone my creative interests and messaging. Mako’s contribution has made a major difference in my community-based art by helping the work to advance beyond ArtPrize.

Before meeting Mako, I had packed away my paint brushes for fifteen years. Instead of art, it was a time for spiritual grounding, while learning how to apply positive life principles in everyday ways to benefit others. Now, as an artist, I’m using what I learned then to support friends, neighbors, and strangers through my redemptive art.

Robert Schumann, a German composer, said an artist’s duty is “to send light into the darkness of men’s hearts.” As an artist of the soul, I’m learning how to cultivate exhibits that focus on empathy and compassion. Such work addresses our universal brokenness, but it also reflects a bit of my own story.

At thirty-four, I found out the most powerful man I knew had suddenly died. Enormous grief pulled me out to sea like a riptide. Wasn’t I too young to bury my father?

After my dad’s death, I finally realized I had this white-knuckled grip on how I wanted my life to work out; I wanted a storybook family that goes sailing on Sunday afternoons. My childhood dream capsized, though, when my parents divorced and my family broke apart. I found myself drowning in the deep water, trying to control the wreckage and stay afloat. Those pain-saturated decades, the parts I can talk about and the parts I can’t, seep out through my art.

Whether it’s attaching a scrap of red jeans to help raise awareness for sex trafficking, or releasing a personal struggle by writing a “let go” statement, or writing a note to a veteran coping with PTSD, military sexual assault, or veteran suicide—elements of a future 2020 work—each installation creates a nurturing space that invites hope. Because of my past pain, I believe art has a unique potential to touch the deep places within the human spirit, and interactive art, especially art that offers healing, draws people into a place of restoration.

Igniting Courage

Behind the Artwork

Beauty - Part of the Courage Ablaze watercolor series

Jetta’s Story

One of my Congolese friends, whom I’ll call Jetta, is a true woman of courage. Her story, as well as the stories of several other refugees, inspired my work called Courage Ablaze. This vignette tells part of her amazing story of courage in the face of life-threatening situations:

Jetta and her children fled into Uganda as gunfire broke out near their home in the Democratic Republic of Congo. While trying to save the lives of her children, Jetta was separated from her husband for three years—not knowing if he had survived or died.

But as they fled, Jetta encountered soldiers from Rwanda raping the Congolese women. So Jetta took a detour. She put aside her own safety long enough to march into a commander’s office and give him this message: “Tell your soldiers to stop raping the women.”

Jetta’s story is an incredible story of courage. In the middle of war and chaos, she risked her life and her children’s safety because she cared about the abuse of other innocent women and children.

After meeting Jetta, I had to ask myself, “What would you do, Pamela? Would you care enough to risk your own safety to help others in need?”

Jetta’s courage brings to mind these ancient sacred words from the book of Proverbs: “Speak up for those who cannot speak for themselves; ensure justice for those being crushed.” Jetta spoke up.

Jetta’s story inspired the Courage Ablaze exhibit.

Note: The name has been changed to protect identity.

Recovering from Sexual Abuse

Behind the Artwork

Wounded - Mixed media art and part of The Scarlet Cord installation

Tammy’s Story

Survivors often begin to experience healing when they finally acknowledge the sexual abuse. Over time, some even reach the point when they can let go of the guilt and shame. These first bold steps often end up sparking hope. This inspirational story occurred at The Scarlet Cord exhibit:

While I was raising awareness for sex trafficking at The Scarlet Cord, a young woman I call Tammy asked for one of the scarlet cords that we gave away to exhibit visitors. As I tied a cord on Tammy’s wrist, she burst into tears. The sexual abuse, she said, had lasted for years during her childhood.

“The shame and the guilt of your sexual abuse,” I said, “belongs to your perpetrators. The individuals who committed the crimes against you. The shame and the guilt doesn’t belong to you.”

Tammy’s perpetrator, a teacher, had told her that she had invited the abuse by being seductive. “His accusations are part of the abuse,” I explained. “Children don’t solicit sexual abuse; children are the victims.”

A month later, one of Tammy’s friends emailed me to thank me for reaching out to her. The friend wrote, “Ever since that night when we met at The Scarlet Cord, Tammy has been feeling encouraged.”

Tammy’s first bold steps for healing gave her a sense of new beginnings.

Find out more about The Scarlet Cord exhibit.

Note: The name and some details have been changed to protect identities.

Honoring a Local Hero

Behind the Artwork

Army Spc. Eric T. Burri’s Story

Pamela with Eric Burri's parents at the Hometown Hero unveilingDo life’s challenges make heroes or reveal heroes? Army Spc. Eric Burri was killed while serving in Iraq, but his parents, John and Joanne Burri, kept his memory alive by rallying an entire Midwest community to help Iraqi children. Eric’s life and his parents’ example of how to turn overwhelming grief into an opportunity to help others inspired my ArtPrize Top 20 work called Hometown Hero:

“Dad, I’m not afraid to die.”

Eric’s picture rests between two angel figurines. Another tiny photo of Eric with a small American flag hangs from the center of the kitchen curtain rod. His dad remembers when Eric announced with a smile, “Dad, I did it. I joined.” The next day he graduated from high school.

“The military taught Eric a lot,” said his dad. “Eric started understanding that life wasn’t just about him; it was about others too.” While deployed to Iraq, Eric noticed the Iraqi children who didn’t have shoes. He wrote home, “Mom, if I could, I would give them the shoes off my feet.”

His father continued, “In May of 2005, Eric came home for a short visit and took his sweetheart shopping to look at diamond rings. He only had five more months left to serve in Iraq. A few weeks later, on Tuesday, June 7, a roadside bomb exploded in Baghdad and killed Eric.

“To honor Eric’s love for the Iraqi children, we collected thousands of shoes and sent them to Iraq,” said his dad as he wiped away a tear.

For Eric and his parents, life’s most difficult challenges revealed their heroism.

Eric’s story inspired the Hometown Hero exhibit.

Starting the Butterfly Effect

Behind the Artwork

Whitney’s Story

Pamela and WhitneyThe butterfly effect, an alternative scientific theory, challenges us to consider that every tiny action could have a large effect. The smallest deed or word–positive or negative–has the potential to change the course of an individual’s life. Whitney’s story demonstrates how to turn heartache into an opportunity for hope:

Whitney, a bullied Michigan teen, was voted onto the homecoming court—as a cruel prank. Responding to the negative butterfly effect, she said, “I feel like trash.” She even considered ending her life. But her sister convinced her to prove the other kids wrong. When local businesses heard about Whitney’s decision to go through with the homecoming, they donated a gown, shoes, and a makeover. She concluded, “I’m not the joke everyone thinks I am.” Whitney ended up transforming her community with the butterfly effect of courage.

Whitney’s story inspired the Broken Wings exhibit.