Vignettes (in italics) are the author’s reconstructions based on Ruth’s recollections. To preserve dignity and anonymity, names, ages and ethnicity have been altered in descriptions of students throughout this article.

Trained Therapist,
Award-Winning Artist

Art Therapist training isn’t for sissies, either! BVM Ruth Evermann achieved her M.A. in Art Therapy at the University of Illinois, Chicago campus. She completed crisis training at the Institute for Crisis and Loss in Chicago and Crisis Management for Children Experiencing Loss at the Barr-Harris Children’s Grief Center, also in Chicago.

Her art therapy internships were served at the psychiatric units of Children’s Memorial, and St. Mary Hospitals. She is fully licensed by the State of Illinois and board certified by the American Art Therapy Association. She was a finalist for the Golden Apple Teaching Award and this year celebrates 50 years as a Sister of Charity of the BVM. Her apartment in Chicago serves as her art studio and she regularly enters and wins awards in juried art shows.

Recently, she was selected to represent professionals in Art Therapy as a VIP Member in the 2006/2007 “Honors Edition” of the Cambridge Who’s Who Executive and Professional Registry. This selection was based upon “her achievements, contributions and the true passion she exhibits for her profession.”

Elementary students created this award-winning piece.

Nina is a primary grade student at Jose de Diego Community Academy in Chicago. Her school day began badly when, upon being tapped on the shoulder, Nina reacted defensively, striking out at the child who had tried to get her attention. The ensuing scuffle resulted in a call to Room 007 alerting Ms. Evermann that two students were being brought to her.

Ruth Evermann, BVM proudly explains a
student project integrating art and science.

Ruth Evermann, BVM (Lyle) is a 45-year veteran teacher whose last 34 years have been spent in the Chicago Public Schools (CPS). She is the only full-time art therapist employed by the CPS, and she's there because an uncommon principal had an uncommon vision.

“He took a chance on me,” says Ruth, “I was in the right place at the right time with the right degree, and here I am!” Her contributions to the school community are so essential that her position survives even though the CPS chronically experiences rough economic times.

“There are art therapists throughout the CPS,” explains Ruth, “but the schools don't pay their salaries, outside social service agencies do.” Ruth has a strong advantage over itinerant art therapists. As a full-time faculty member, she is able to observe students in their milieu on a daily basis, noting individual behaviors, tracking situational reactions and responses, and assessing group dynamics.

“This is a sacred place for me, and I'm privileged to be walking here—even when I'm on lunch duty and the noise is unbelievable!”

“Sometimes it's scary,” she goes on. “Some of the situations are so raw, and the intensity of anger can be overwhelming. I try to hew to my principles of communication, respect and reflection as I work with students. Despite turmoil, we teachers need to remain firm and polite, to take seriously our adult role in the school community.”

Nina and her classmate are brought to 007 by security personnel. Ruth welcomes each and directs them to sit at different tables.

She listens first to the classmate who explains that he had noticed that Nina did not have a pencil with which to start the assignment given by their teacher. He had an extra and tapped Nina on the shoulder to offer it to her.

After a few questions, it becomes clear that the classmate has no understanding of the reaction his thoughtfulness provoked. Ruth affirms his generosity and talks further with him about possible ways in which he might make his helpfulness more understandable.

The smile that appears is Ruth's signal that this child is on his way to learning from the situation. He is offered some drawing materials and encouraged to work quietly while Ruth attends to Nina.

“It's important to work with all students involved in an incident,” Ruth explains. “No matter the cause and effect, each child deserves respect and the chance to express perceptions of the situation.

“Who's right and who's wrong isn't the issue, and dwelling on that won't change what happened. Each child can grow in understanding and can make behavior changes that will lead to improved outcomes.”

Nina isn't a newcomer to room 007. She has a history of classroom disruption and Ruth's concern centers on whether Nina may have hearing difficulties. Ruth previously has spoken with the school social worker and with Nina's mother about getting the child a hearing test but the mother has been reluctant to pursue the recommendation.

“Over time it became clear to me that Nina was missing academic, environmental and social cues,” Ruth says. “In this case, Nina did not hear the assignment, nor did she hear the offer of help accompanying the shoulder tap. Instead, the tap was interpreted as an act of aggression and Nina reacted by hitting back.”

The mother's resistance to a hearing evaluation may be based on prior unhappy experiences with the school system, on denial of the seriousness of the repeated classroom disruptions, on a family's insistence on handling the situation alone. “Or all three!” Ruth adds.

She's worried that she may have to report the family for medical neglect but works hard to resolve the situation before that stage is reached.

She's made multiple calls to the mother, often asking the mother to do some small action. “Each time, I make the request, I ask her to call me after she's done what I've asked. Boundaries are a way of life, as are small, simple steps.”

Ruth documents each situation, each conversation, each response or lack thereof. Over time, school administrators, social workers and State agencies have come to value Ruth's meticulous records, accepting them with few questions and shortening the time needed to get help for a child.

Nina has her arms clasped tightly around her torso. She is not willing to talk. Ruth assures the child that she doesn't need to and, providing crayons and paper, asks her if she'd like to draw. Nina's head shakes from side to side. Ruth again accepts the response and begins to sketch on her own paper. She's drawing a picture of a young girl and out of the corner of her eye notes that Nina is watching intently.

“Who do you think this is?” Ruth asks quietly. “Is it me?” Nina responds. “It could be,” Ruth answers and begins to add features which give expression to the face on her drawing.

She asks Nina to describe how she thinks the girl in the drawing feels and in response to Nina's answer, asks “Is that how you feel?”

When the reply is “No,” Ruth invites Nina to show her with crayons how she feels. “You can use my paper if you want to,” Ruth adds. Nina begins to draw.

“It's just amazing to watch the anger peel away and the child emerge!,” Ruth sums up.

Better days may lie ahead for Nina. Her mother agreed to the hearing test; a treatable condition was identified and a simple surgery has been scheduled.

Not all of Ruth's daily work is with individuals. The school as community receives its share of attention and Ruth employs the same principles of communication, respect and reflection, plus a large dose of step by step instructions.

This year the entire school undertook the construction of a memory garden to continue honoring the losses of September 11, 2001. Students in each classroom created a cement stepping stone to place in the garden which will be located outside one of the school entrances.

Ruth provided each teacher with an all-inclusive kit (aluminum foil mold, Vaseline and a zip-lock plastic bag with pre-measured cement), a detailed guide to construction (as easy as 1-2-3), and a list of suggestions for integrating the project into lesson plans (math : area, volume, wet weight and dry weight of stepping stone; language arts : sequence of construction, processes to arrive at consensus, decision-making, social studies : discussion on effects of hatred, jealousy, misuse of power, repeated acts of violence and their consequences.)

Nor did her work end there. To complete the peace garden and preserve it from harm by humans and animals, Ruth wrote a grant application for funds to purchase and install a protective fence.

“Art is a natural language for children. It's therapeutic because it gives energy. As they worked together on their stepping stones, they talked about their own experiences of loss. And so,” Ruth smiles, “our memory garden became very personal with memorial stones for a recently deceased staff janitor, a stillborn family member and more than one deceased grandparent.”

A group of junior high students, reacting to a new substitute teacher, engaged in bullying behavior to intimidate her. Racial overtones were part of the picture. Ruth was asked to work with the students.

After securing parental permission for student participation, Ruth began a surprising project, the construction of a ceramic mural for an interior wall of the school.

The students' first learning was that serious art is not for sissies, in fact, is tiring and demanding. They sketched drawings of what the mural might look like, considered construction materials, researched possible themes, learned about adhesive processes.

“What we were doing in 007,” Ruth explained, “was directly opposite what they had done in the classroom.” Cooperation, shared leadership, respectful listening, honest communication were required to move the project along.

“While we worked, I asked the students to listen to what they said and how they said it to each other, and to think about how they treated me.

“I challenged them to think about why things worked in room 007 but not in the classroom, to find the leadership skills in their former bullying behavior and imagine how those same skills could be used positively.”

The students aren't the only learners in 007. Ruth listed two of the struggles the students were experiencing but unable to name: living up to the expectations of being tough; and quitting by living up to others' negative expectations based on stereotypes.

“We have to walk through these issues with children in a step-wise fashion,” she says. “Patience and tiny steps that dispense with space for assumptions and misunderstandings work best.”

Normally drab drinking fountain areas sparkle with lively murals. Ruth writes grants to cover costs of materials for each project.

The students' completed mural has taken its place in the halls of the academy among several others constructed by Ruth with other school groups. The brightly colored collages of sea creatures and nature scenes not only enliven walls and surround the school community with beauty, but engender a sense of pride in the artisans.

“The kids do NOT touch these murals,” Ruth exhales with amazement, “There are no nicks, chips or graffiti and this shows respect for their work and for themselves.

Whether her day is spent mostly with children in crisis, on school-wide art projects, or ceramic murals, Ruth enthusiasm for her work is limitless.

One day, while kneeling to hang one of the murals, a student asked, “Are you praying, Ms. Evermann?” “I am,” Ruth replied. “This is my prayer.”

To her delight, the child got it immediately. Once again, Ruth recognized the sacredness of her space.

About the author: Teri Hadro, BVM is currently on sabbatical. Despite failing miserably at stick figures in elementary school, she has a new appreciation of her own artistic potential after doing this article!

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© 2007 Sisters of Charity, BVM