VIVA SARAH PRESS

As soon as the kids saw me walking towards the school gate, they screamed my clown name: “Oshi! Oshi!” They had big news to share with me: I was in their school newspaper. It was great excitement for them that Leepa and I (we split days as educational clowns at this school) made it into the school magazine. Before I had time to even walk up the steps to enter the front door of the school, a girl was already pulling my hand to come meet the writer of the few sentences that had

At an elementary school today, the pupils made sure to tell Educational Clowns Oshi and Leepa about all the things we didn't know. We didn't know our style of dress was out-of-style. We didn't know our hair bows were called 'ugly.' We didn't know how to do Fortnite dances properly. We didn't know that Oshi's knapsack was for little kids only, not for educational clowns. We didn't know that when you go to the bathroom, it is best to be followed there by a group of kids. There

“Leepa and Oshi are coming!!!!” one pupil shouted from the front gate of an elementary school. Within seconds, a gaggle of pupils from first through sixth grades crowded the gate chanting a welcoming cheer for us, educational clowns. “Go straight. Turn to the left. Come to us. No… go straight. Turn to the right. Now straight. Come to us.” The excitement rose and rose. So, we – Leepa and Oshi – slowed down our walk towards the gate. The anticipation only grew. A teacher up on

Ciara hesitates for a few seconds before deciding to stop me and another clown-in-training. “What are you doing here?” she asks. She has seen us around, she says, and wants to know why there are suddenly seven adults dressed up as clowns roaming around her school. “We’re educational clowns,” I answer. “This is a school. So, we came here to learn.” My answer seems to hook her in. She squares herself in front of us. “But what are you doing here?” she asks again. “Why are you he

Mr. Peacock introduces me to Barb. Well, it isn’t really an introduction. He points at her and says, “she’s the school drug dealer.” As an educational clown, I get to meet today’s youth on their turf. I am allowed – and sometimes invited– into their space. I view it as a great privilege to be able to connect with them. To see the world through their eyes. After all, most middle school kids and high school kids wouldn’t choose to hang out or share their stories with a 43-year

Therapeutic clowning has fascinated me for years. As a journalist, I have the good fortune of meeting people from all walks of life. Every time I interviewed a therapeutic clown, I left the interview thinking, “I want to do that.” I first met medical clowns when I was a print journalist, early in my career. I would meet them again as a television correspondent, then as a radio host, and again, years later, as an online news editor. There was something about this art form that

Puzzled looks, raised eyebrows, quizzical glances, and a smile. These are the reactions I get whenever I talk about my latest volunteering stint in educational clowning. This clowning field, educational clowning, is still in its infancy. It is still being created in Israel. And, thanks to my teacher, Talia Safra, I’m part of this amazing adventure. In short, educational clowning -- or, school clowning -- can be described as a stress reliever for students and teachers. Therape

I don’t work on Sundays. While many people around the world don’t work on Sundays, in Israel, where I’m based, Sunday is Day One of the work week. For the past 20 years, I’ve worked on Sundays. As a freelancer, when I take on new clients or enter into new collaborations, I make note right away that I don’t work on Sundays. People inevitably ask why that is. My answer: I’m a therapeutic clown on Sundays. I spend my Sundays in a high school or mental health center, hoping to ea

My school clowning took me to a high school in a low socioeconomic neighborhood of a central city in Israel. The students, we had been told, came from broken homes, single-parent homes and from homes struggling to make ends meet. The youth that greeted us – five newly-minted therapeutic clowns, still learning the ropes of clown care – were just as curious about us as we were about them. Some welcomed us to follow them into their classes, to meet their friends, to open up to u

Educational clowning is a new kind of clown care and taking part in this developing arena is oh-so-much-fun. One recent afternoon, pint-sized people came to try out after-school activities at a local community center in Tel Aviv. There was a movement class and a sorta-ballet class on offer. These little people were excited and nervous; happy and angry; hot, tired and hungry. The parents shared many of the same feelings, with strain and exhaustion topping their lists. A fellow

The new school year has begun in Israel, and as my third-grader and two sixth-graders headed back to their classrooms, I, too, returned to studies. They wore T-shirts emblazoned with their school symbols; I decked out in my “uniform” of striped socks, polka dotted shirt and neon suspenders. I’m continuing my clowning studies. In June, I completed an introductory course to medical clowning at the Kibbutzim College in Tel Aviv. Medical clowning is an officially-recognized parap

Waiting for the doctor is an activity no one enjoys but nonetheless inevitable. So, what happens when a group of therapeutic medical clowns comes to wait with you? The adage is that time flies when you’re having fun. And that’s exactly what happens when my clown care peers and I show up at a medical health clinic. Today, we arrived at a women’s and children’s health clinic in Ashkelon. We come to relieve stress, bring a smile to people’s faces and help create a more relaxed m