Rebecca Barraclough

If there’s one thing that’s stayed with me throughout the different stages of my life—from my childhood in the Philippines to my career in instructional design—it’s art. It’s been my quiet companion through uncertainty, my form of expression when words failed, and now, one of my favorite ways to connect with others in meaningful, personal ways. What started with a watercolor set in a small farming town in Saskatchewan has grown into something that touches every part of my life: painting, carving, creating—and most importantly—sharing it with others.

For me, art isn’t just something I do in solitude. It’s something I carry with me into my work, my family life, and my community. Whether I’m teaching resume writing to incarcerated individuals or helping my son draw silly cartoons on a rainy day, I’ve come to realize that creative expression can be a bridge—a way to reach people, build trust, and spark learning. That’s where the magic lives.

Finding My Voice Through Art

When I first discovered watercolor painting as a child, I didn’t know how to ask for what I needed. I had just moved to Canada, didn’t speak English yet, and often felt isolated. But sitting down with a brush in my hand changed everything. It gave me a way to explore my emotions without needing the right words. Even today, I remember the woman who introduced me to watercolor. She didn’t speak much either, but her quiet encouragement changed my life. She taught me that art could be a kind of language all on its own.

Over the years, my love for visual art has grown. I now work with acrylics, ink, and linocut printmaking. Each medium offers something different—watercolor is fluid and emotional, linocut is bold and meticulous, and acrylic gives me the freedom to layer and rework. Each form teaches patience, perspective, and problem-solving in its own way. And the process of creating—getting my hands messy, experimenting, making mistakes—has become as important to me as the final piece.

Bringing Art Into Learning Spaces

In my professional work, I focus on helping people navigate change—new systems, new skills, new ways of working. A big part of that is about building trust and engagement, which is where creativity makes such a difference. You don’t have to be an artist to benefit from creative tools in learning. Even simple visuals or storytelling techniques can help learners connect more deeply with a concept.

I often find myself using elements of my artistic background when designing learning programs. When I create onboarding guides, I think of them like storyboards. When I develop SOPs, I treat them like a step-by-step visual process—clear, intuitive, and thoughtfully paced. Visual thinking helps people absorb complex information more easily, and it brings a human touch to topics that might otherwise feel cold or corporate.

Art has also helped me support adult learners more effectively. I’ve learned that many people—especially those reentering the workforce or dealing with major transitions—feel overwhelmed by traditional learning formats. That’s where small creative exercises, like visual goal-setting or mind-mapping with color, can open up a space for reflection and self-confidence. These are small additions, but they often lead to deeper conversations and a stronger sense of agency.

Creativity in Volunteer Work

One of the most meaningful ways I’ve been able to integrate creativity and service into my life is through volunteer work. At Vita Education Services, I contribute by helping incarcerated individuals craft resumes as part of a job readiness program. Due to the nature of the environment and safety protocols in place, I don’t interact directly with the individuals. Instead, I write tailored prompts and questions, and my responses are relayed through a staff member who communicates directly with them. It’s a process that requires thoughtful communication and empathy, especially when trying to capture someone’s story and strengths through a layer of distance.

Even without direct contact, I can often sense when someone is searching for the right way to express themselves, or struggling to frame their experience in a way that feels true. This is where creativity comes into play—not in an artistic sense necessarily, but in the act of listening between the lines, and translating raw details into something structured, meaningful, and empowering. I try to ensure their resumes reflect not only their abilities, but their potential.

Volunteering has always been a priority in my life, and I’ve been fortunate to be involved in a variety of efforts that connect me to my community and beyond. A few years ago, I helped prepare the Garden of Health Community Farm in Hatfield for the growing season, knowing the fruits and vegetables would go to local food pantries and senior communities. I also volunteered with Worthwhile Thrift in Plumsteadville when their first store opened, helping organize donations and displays in support of survivors of human trafficking. In 2023, I participated in a local initiative called Perkasie & Friends, assembling food and gift card bundles for low-income families at Thanksgiving.

Some of my longest-standing volunteer efforts have become traditions. Every year since my twenties, I’ve packed shoeboxes for Operation Christmas Child—filling them with essentials and small joys for children in need around the world. And though not always hands-on, I consistently support organizations I deeply believe in through monthly donations, including Pickup Please for veterans, Save the Children, and UNICEF.

Volunteer work grounds me. It reminds me that even small, local efforts can ripple outward. Whether I’m writing a resume from afar, packing supplies, or prepping soil for a new season, I carry the same intention with me: to show up with care, and to support others in moving forward with dignity. Giving back isn’t just something I try to fit into my life—it’s a responsibility I believe we all share, and a way to stay connected to the heart of what really matters.

At Home and In the Neighborhood

At home, art shows up in more informal but no less meaningful ways. My son and I often draw together—it’s our quiet time, our bonding ritual, and our favorite way to get a little silly. Whether we’re making up stories for our characters or dancing around the kitchen with paint on our hands, it reminds me that creativity doesn’t have to be polished or perfect to be powerful.

In my neighborhood, I’ve found ways to share art more casually—whether it’s creating event posters for a community event or crafting with friends on a rainy Saturday. These small acts of making things together create connection. They spark laughter. They open up space for real conversation. And sometimes, they’re the beginning of a new friendship.

The Joy of Sharing What You Love

Integrating art into my community work and learning practice hasn’t been about being “good” at it—it’s been about being open. Open to expression, to connection, to creating environments where people feel safe exploring their own voices. Whether I’m carving a linocut block late at night or guiding someone through a resume rewrite, I’m reminded that creativity isn’t just what we make. It’s how we show up. It’s the energy we bring to the spaces we inhabit.

And that, to me, is the most rewarding kind of art there is.