My Children Are Teaching Me the Value of Kuumba Year-Round

As many Black communities prepare to celebrate Kwanzaa, creativity takes on particular significance.

Two brothers, playing together outdoors on their driveway, building a robot out of cardboard.
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I've spent most of my life thinking about creativity and the "right" way to be creative. Often, that came with questions and curiosities about whether the things I create are "good enough." I know the definition of creativity is fluid. But our social media-focused society brings a craving for external validation and the dopamine rush of likes, shares, and comments. I miss the days when I could string words together just for creation's sake. But now, as a mother, I found creativity to look different. My children are the most inspiring creative force in my life.  

At this time of year, as many Black communities prepare to celebrate Kwanzaa, creativity takes on particular significance through "Kuumba." Kwanzaa's sixth principle tells us "to always do as much as we can, in the way we can, in order to leave our community more beautiful and beneficial than we inherited it." Many who celebrate Kwanzaa see creativity as a source of restoration and hope.


The official Kwanzaa website addresses the importance of children as symbols of survival and the community's longevity. "It is they who, as Mary M. Bethune taught, are the 'heirs and custodians" of our cultural legacy as a people,'" it says. "This dual function as heirs and custodians means that they not only inherit African culture—its narrative and achievements, its views and values—but must assume responsibility for its preservation and expansion."

I asked my almost 7-year-old about creativity recently. "Creativity is when you do something that you like, and then you show other people that might like it, but you don't care [whether they like it or not]," he said. The definition wasn't perfect, but it was thoughtful and self-assured. I was shocked that he could effortlessly grasp something I'd lost. "Being creative is when you build a tower or draw a picture from your imagination," he continued. For him, being creative centers on taking something from your mind and bringing it to real life. 

He's right; creativity does bring things from our brains into the real world. But it also brings holistic benefits. Multiple studies show that creativity improves mental health, reduces anxiety, and helps us fine-tune focus. It's impactful. But it doesn't have to be in cliche modes like painting, writing, or dancing. My children remind me that we can express and locate creativity in the mundane. 

They find endless opportunities to be creative in formal ways—by creating comic books and building with magnetic blocks. But they also find unexpected ways to create storylines and sneak attack their dad.

Their vision of freedom is different my mine. They don't care that we have deadlines and work demands. When I'm thinking clearly, I realize they shouldn't

I believe they're most creative in their joy.

My children don't let anything stand between them and a good time. Their relentless pursuit of joy can sometimes feel overwhelming for me as their mother. But there are other moments where their insistence on fun is a grounding force keeping me from the clouds of workaholicism. 

Their way of life is a continual nod to my son's definition of creativity. They dare to imagine a world where work, labor, and responsibility don't trump fun. As a mother, I take Kuumba's call "to always do as much as we can, in the way we can, to leave our community more beautiful and beneficial than we inherited it," literally. Too often, their father and I see the best way to improve their lives and the community in deadlines, milestones, and dollar amounts.

Their vision of creativity is different my mine. They don't care that we have deadlines and work demands. When I'm thinking clearly, I realize they shouldn't. Little Black kids deserve the freedom to play and frolic around without the pressure of excellence and expectations. In Black communities, we're expected to rejoice at the burden of oppressive systems because it means we made it to something more successful.  

If I want more for them, I have to let them feel more. I must raise them to preserve their joy and seek support. I want them to be resourceful as they develop their families and find their paths. I need them to get comfortable expressing their needs in whatever dialect is necessary to ensure they get the support they deserve.

In doing this, they will be creatively making their lives and the lives of everyone around them better. That means more than anything to me.

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