VIVA SARAH PRESS

A copy of this blog appears on Oshi the clown's blog, too. I met a girl who was a ball of energy. She was electric. Bounced off walls. Constantly fidgeted. I met a boy who was gifted. He was jaded. Maddening. Desperate to learn. I met a girl who was narcissistic. She was a bully. She was insecure. She terrorized her classmates. To all of them, I offered joy. But I did not – and could not – offer therapy. I believe there is a difference between therapeutic clowning and

Twice a week, I work as an educational clown. The rest of the week, I work as an innovation journalist and give talks on the culture of innovation. So, this morning, when I went to the TV studio for an interview it could have been a typical outing. But today, I was being interviewed – and not the other way around. Moreover, I was dressed as Oshi, my educational clown alter ego. Upon walking into the waiting area of the studio, however, my eyes nearly popped out from excitemen

Back-to-school season is underway. For teachers that means lesson plans, learning students’ names, teaching strategies, classroom guidance. For school counselors that means alternate frames of reference, classroom guidance, defiant kids, building self-esteem. For parents that means navigating jitters, providing emotional support, easing anxieties, setting a homework tempo. For Oshi, my alter-ego educational clown, back-to-school means adding humor to the school day. It means

Inevitably, at least once a day at school, Oshi is called a killer clown. Of course, take one look at Oshi – an educational therapeutic clown – and it is obvious that her fashion sense of dots, stripes, bright colors, flowers, no face makeup or wig and goofy facial expressions aren’t exactly killer clown material. Yet, the students at the schools at which Oshi works use the name-calling to strike up conversation. And Oshi is only too happy to play along. The “game” begins wit