VIVA SARAH PRESS

“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

The eight-year-old was the youngest attendee at a talk I gave today. There were also a bunch of tweens and teenagers in the audience, as well as their parents and grandparents. These mixed generation audiences are always fun and distinctive. After all, many of the groups that invite me to speak are uniform in age or profession. Earlier this month, I spoke to a synagogue group from Santa Barbara (ages 50-80). Last month, I addressed a group of business folks. The inter-generat

Coming up the stairs with one friend on each side, Nicole repeats in disgust how she is a magnet for bad luck. “Terrible luck. Bad luck. Ugh. I have horrible luck,” she complains to her friends as they reach the 11th-grade floor and head towards the classrooms down the hall. “Mazal Nakhs,” she calls it in Hebrew. I’ve overheard Nicole lamenting her luck, as I happened to come down the stairs from the floor above just as they were coming up. As such, we reach the same floor mi

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

The seventh graders go wild when they see us, a small crew of educational clowns, in their quad space. The 8th and 9th graders squeal, ask for high-fives or handshakes, or sometimes invite us to their classrooms. The 10th, 11th and 12th graders think we’re hilarious, they beckon us into their classrooms, and join us in our silly games. All of these high school kids want us to stay in their midst. They like us. They like the color we add to their school day. The feelings are m

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

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