Starting the Butterfly Effect

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.

Letting Go

Close-up of hand written Let Go statements

A Daughter’s Story

More than one hundred participants submitted “Let Go” sentences to be collaged onto my ArtPrize Nine painting. But one woman caught my attention when she wrote this statement: “Mom, I’m letting go of my expectations of what our relationship should look like. I forgive you for the pain you caused, and I release you from any responsibility to heal me.”

Her profound statement, “I release you from any responsibility to heal me,” compelled me to contact her to see if she would share more of her story. She agreed. The following vignette shows her progression from heartache to healing. The Let Go journey is always difficult but never impossible.

Mom,

You said I shouldn’t be affected by your decision to divorce my dad. What you didn’t realize was that you not only closed yourself off from Dad, but from me as well. When you shut yourself away in your room and told me not to bother you, I learned that I no longer had a mother to depend on; I had to fend for myself.

When I left for work one day, you changed the locks to prevent my dad from coming in. But you didn’t realize—you locked me out too. Over and over, you chose your “freedom” and your “own” path over me. Your choices cut a deep wound in my heart.

One day, I realized you would probably never apologize; I needed to forgive you, or my bitterness would end up consuming me. I had to accept you for being you, instead of wishing you were some other mom.

Mom, I’m letting go of my expectations of what our relationship should look like. I forgive you for the pain you caused, and I release you from any responsibility to heal me.

Love,
Your daughter

This is one of the stories that inspired the Let Go exhibit.

Note: Some details have been changed to protect identities.

Coloring with Kindness

Teenagers tying ribbons on Color Me Orange—Color Me Kind at ArtPrize 2016

Nathan’s Story

Color Me Orange—Color Me Kind shines a spotlight on bullying. The installation is specifically tailored toward middle school students—often the most vulnerable. Sadly, some of these students suffer so intensely from bullying that they believe suicide is the only way to end it all.

Our intentional kindness has the potential to brighten someone’s world. Maybe kindness, love, and understanding could have helped those who committed suicide because of bullying. Here’s how Nathan used his limited resources to color someone’s life with kindness and inspire hope:

D’Mario used the f-word and flipped me off a few times; he was the only kid in our sixth-grade class I tried to avoid. D’Mario was angry at everyone, but I was his target.

During basketball season, D’Mario and I ended up on the same team. He threatened, “You better quit, or I’ll hurt you.” D’Mario used sports to get his anger out; he used sports to control.

One day, the holes in D’Mario’s old Nike shoes gave me an idea. I made $2.50 a day walking a dog, so I started saving up. After two months, I bought a decent pair of Adidas shoes for 60 bucks. When I gave D’Mario the basketball shoes, his eyes got big.

That moment sparked something; D’Mario realized that I wasn’t out to get him. I showed him that I cared.

Once I got the courage to reach out to D’Mario, he realized that we weren’t competitors. I felt relieved. He started giving me compliments on the court; I gave him compliments back. By taking a risk and choosing kindness, my actions brought out D’Mario’s nice side.

Nathan, age 12

Nathan’s story inspired the Color Me Orange—Color Me Kind exhibit.

Living with Autism

Excerpts from Walker’s Story

Wings of LoveParticipatory art has a subtle power to serve as a healing catalyst. Visitors often experience new insight through connecting with the work. As the artwork begins to unlock the soul, it becomes a place of hope and healing. Walker’s autism story inspired an avalanche of hope, with more than twenty thousand ArtPrize visitors writing prayers for other children, like Walker, at Wing and a Prayer.

I have autism! I’m afraid that others will look at me differently. But, if they could see what is in my heart, they would see a real human being. Not an outcast or a kid to dislike.

One of my teachers said I would never learn how to read or do math, but she didn’t understand my determination. In high school and college, I played hockey, got good grades, and achieved pretty well socially, too.

I can’t get my autism to go away no matter how hard I try. But I’m living proof that people can’t tell me how far I can go. That is up to me!

Walker, age 19

Walker’s story inspired the Wing and a Prayer exhibit.

Broken Wings Continues to Bring Healing

Broken Wings Courthouse project

Wow! It’s been an exciting year! Following ArtPrize, I had the privilege to work with incarcerated teens and their probation officers with the 17th Circuit Court in Kent County, Michigan. Throughout December, I guided this special group through a hands-on project where the girls created a 3×3 foot Broken Wings butterfly made of almost 600 Plexiglas tiles. While painting the tiles, the girls and I discussed the word “trust“ and how to treat each other with kindness. The finished work is proudly displayed in the Kent County Courthouse.

Broken Wings Holland Home project

From February through May, Holland Home of Grand Rapids, Michigan invited me to work with seniors across all levels of care. Around 400 seniors helped make six hands-on pieces. It was a real honor to work with this vibrant group of older adults. They probably taught me more about life than I taught them about art. Our discussions about World War II, resiliency, and leaving a legacy made a healing impact.

Broken Wings Art Mysteries

Students from schools in Virginia, Colorado, and Michigan enjoyed the creative discovery process with my Art Mystery projects. It was fascinating to see their enthusiasm and delight as they solved the Art Mysteries.

The healing art also traveled to schools in Kenya and Uganda with two different volunteer teams. I couldn’t wait to see the finished work when the teams returned back home (shown below).

Broken Wings in Africa

Thank you so much for your generous donations. Your investment has made a HUGE difference in the lives of so many individuals from ArtPrize to Africa. My next project tackles the serious issues of pornography, rape, and sex trafficking. Again, thanks a MILLION for your kind support!

Open Hands: The Story Behind the Story

Open Hands collage of hand trace drawings

Celebrate with us! We reached our first goal of 1000 handprints!

Art is one way, or solution, to work through some of my own dilemmas or emotional scars. My art supports the tension of being in process and moving forward. Over the years, this work has evolved from static art hanging on a wall to vibrant interactive healing spaces involving others.

For example, I created Let Go, which showcased during ArtPrize 2017 in Grand Rapids, Michigan, as a positive step to work through a personal situation where I felt stuck—unable to let go of debilitating thoughts and emotions. By being vulnerable and willing to put my work out there, 70,000 ArtPrize visitors joined me on the creative healing journey by writing their own let go notes. The interactive public art helped many work through personal challenges, and countless individuals, besides myself, experienced emotional or spiritual freedom.

My latest work, Open Hands, an interactive traveling art experiment, is no exception. The work, first inspired by Babette’s Feast—a fictional story about a refugee’s plight, is about opening our fists in times of struggle and lending a hand to others. Like Babette, I am learning how to overcome adversity by redirecting my attention to the needs of others.

Writing message on Open Hands drawing

Here’s a bit of my backstory

When I was 19, my parents divorced. Our once bustling home was decimated overnight. My dad physically checked out; my mother emotionally checked out.

During school breaks, I found my childhood home completely empty. While wandering from room to room, each space felt silent—vacant. So, not only was I learning to deal with my parent’s divorce, but now deep loneliness crept into my life.

Sometimes, because of the isolation, I just sat on the floor and cried. The never-ending cycle of aloneness overwhelmed me. Finally, after a few months of constantly spiraling downward, I realized that in order to survive I needed a change. So, I left my Michigan home and moved to Southern California.

At first, the new adventure sparked hope, but I didn’t realize that my deep grief and debilitating depression would follow me all the way to the West Coast. My daily phone calls to my mom often ended with her repeating this mantra: “Get your thoughts off yourself, and do something nice for someone else.”

With nothing to lose, I decided to give my mom’s solution a try. When someone was sitting alone in the school cafeteria, I asked them to join me. When my grandmother sent homemade cookies, I shared them with my roommates. I also ended up assisting a schizophrenic patient during meal times through a volunteer school program at Camarillo State Hospital.

My mom’s wise counsel, at the time, was hard to understand. But looking back, she was helping me learn how to cope. She was teaching me to replace the inward focus on my own negative circumstances with an outward focus—benefiting others. While grieving my broken family was healthy and necessary, my traumatic experiences opened my heart and my art to the sorrows and needs of others.

Years later, I realized that, like me, so many others are stuck in hurtful situations. Brokenness is part of life. Illness, stress, loss, divorce, and suicide continue to interrupt our lives. Perhaps focusing our attention on others won’t solve all our problems, but overcoming the “selfie” attitude will help alleviate some of them.

Open Hands drawing with forgiveness message

Open Hands encourages closing our phones and opening our hands to the needs of others. The work calls for resiliency—growing through adversity, bouncing back, and learning to thrive for the wellbeing of others. Open Hands is about embracing brokenness through redemption and hope—by being part of the solution.

Where in the world is Open Hands? Follow on Instagram to find out and help reach the second goal of 2,500 handprints.

Broken Wings: Kaleidoscope

Broken Wings No. 5 in progress

Broken Wings No. 5 – Kaleidoscope

3 x 3 foot Mixed Media

A collaborative work with Breton and Raybrook Assisted Living Facilities and artist Pamela Alderman

Monarchs fly low to the ground on the southerly wind to migrate to a warmer climate. They also ride thermals, a rising column of air, like a hawk. The warm thermals lift the butterflies a few thousand feet upward, where the strong upper-air currents help them to glide forward.

Amazingly, one Holland Home resident caught a rare glimpse of the butterflies’ journey. “I watched a huge swarm of butterflies just waiting for the wind.” With the next strong gust, a kaleidoscope of color flew upward.

For Broken Wings No. 5, a kaleidoscope of talent collaborated to help assisted-living residents ride the creative winds like the Monarchs. To prepare the sponge art, one resident trimmed clothes pins with a band saw, creating a special easy-to-grip stamping tool; others cut two-inch pieces of sponges to grip with the clothes pins. Meanwhile, in Breton Woods’ carpenter shop, a group of men made the frames for the Holland Home Broken Wings Collection.

As various seniors with different abilities came together for this interactive art, one resident sat silently in his wheelchair with a faraway look in his eyes—just waiting. So, I decided to engage with him by singing acapella. Our eyes locked when I began to sing the doxology, and the elderly man mouthed each familiar word in unison. In that rare moment, two creative spirits experienced redemptive love—riding a kaleidoscope of hope upward.

Contact Pamela to schedule your Interactive Event Art.