Community-arts educator Brian Barry on why the low-pressure, no-talking version of making art may be exactly what an anxious teen in a high-conflict divorce needs.
If you've searched for art therapy for teens, you've probably been watching an anxious kid struggle through a hard time, and are looking for something, anything, that helps. It's worth knowing there are two different techniques: formal art therapy, which is a clinical practice delivered by a licensed art therapist, and the broader, more accessible version: giving a teenager a creative outlet where they can process what they're carrying without being asked to explain it. For a lot of kids in high-conflict divorce, that second path is the one that actually gets them in the door.
To understand why, we spent an afternoon with Brian Barry, program manager and community-arts lead at the Clay Art Center in Port Chester, New York, where he runs free ceramics programming for kids and teens. Brian isn't a therapist, and he'd be the first to say so. What he offers is something our community's kids badly need: a place to make things, at their own pace, with no pressure to perform and no requirement to talk, and can have a bigger impact than you’d imagine.
Why an anxious teen may need the no-talking version
A lot of programs assume that adding a "therapy" component to art makes it more helpful, but sometimes the opposite is true. If a kid knows that they're going to have to talk about feelings during a class and don't want to, they “might just not come," Brian says. The requirement to open up becomes the very thing that keeps a struggling kid away.
Working with clay and not talking to anybody, by contrast, "gives us that time to kind of process our feelings internally” without having to verbally share with others. For a teenager whose anxiety shows up as shyness, that permission to be quiet is a relief. Brian's whole posture toward those kids is, "You don't have to open up… Just work on your own stuff. Let me know if you need anything." Give them the space and the materials, be there if they want you, and don't push them to publicize their pain. For a child who has been surrounded by adult conflict they can't control, being left alone to make something is its own kind of care.
It doesn't require talent, tools, or experience
One of the biggest barriers is a misconception Brian used to hold himself: that art is for people with a certain skill, the right tools, or some innate creativity, and not for the rest of us. He says that this idea is false. At the Clay Art Center, "you need no experience, you need no skills, all you really need is some curiosity and some enthusiasm for learning something new."
Clay in particular is forgiving in a way that helps an anxious kid. It's tactile and hands-on, and rewards trial and error rather than getting it right the first time. Potters, Brian notes, tend to be approachable people who love sharing what they know, which lowers the stakes even further. A teen who is terrified of failing at something can pick up a lump of clay, try, fail, and try again, and discover that nothing bad happens. That's a hard lesson to teach with words and an easy one to learn with your hands.
What making things builds: resilience, confidence, ownership
"There's a lot of failure in ceramics," says Brian, who frames this as the point. Pieces explode in the kiln, break before they get there, or come out with a glaze that reacts in a way no one expects, so there's a lot of starting over. For his students, especially the high schoolers, the lesson lands: get back up, try it again, and use what went wrong last time to make the next attempt better.
Alongside resilience comes ownership. There's a specific kind of satisfaction, he says, in watching something start as a plain ball of clay and become a piece you can actually hold and use. A kid who has felt powerless over the big things in their life gets to be fully in charge of this small process, start to finish. Over time, Brian has watched that translate into something larger. He described a student who arrived shy, barely willing to talk, and grew into someone who gives short talks to groups of students and parents, helps teach the younger kids, and is now thinking about where art might take him after high school. The skills grew, as did the comfort in his own skin.
A real alternative to the screen
Parents in our community talk constantly about kids pulled into gaming and endless scrolling, often harder in a home where everything already feels unstable. Brian offered a genuinely practical angle: clay is so messy that it physically can't coexist with a phone. "You can't do clay and have your phone." You might keep a reference photo open, but you're not texting friends or drifting through TikTok. You're using both hands, focused, in the zone. The medium itself pulls a kid off the screen and into the real, present moment, which is a lot harder to legislate any other way.
How to actually help your teen (without pushing)
Brian's advice for parents:
First, don't force it. If you want your child to have a creative outlet, work with them to find one they're actually interested in. "If you really like ceramics but they really like painting, let them do painting." The point is the outlet, not the specific medium you have in mind.
Second, get clear on what you're hoping for, and be honest about it. Brian draws a sharp line between art as a creative outlet for your child's well-being and art as a skill to be developed and marketed. He is firmly for the former and against the latter, at least in this context. A kid should not feel they have to make something gorgeous, beautiful, or impressive. Creating something you want to make, even if a thousand people have made it before, is enough. The goal, in his words, is "the joy of making, and that's it."
Third, you don't have to have a conversation. One of the loveliest things he says is that art can be something you do alongside your child of any age, together, without needing to talk. In a relationship that may feel strained right now, sitting side by side making things can be a way back to each other that doesn't require anyone to find the right words.
What if there's nothing like this near you
The Clay Art Center is one place in one town, and much of our community is spread across the world. Brian's suggestion is to look closer to home than you'd think. Reach out to a local university or even a high school and ask whether their ceramics program is open to the public or the wider community; many are. Look up whether there's a community art center near you, and if it doesn't offer clay, see what else they have, because the medium matters less than the outlet. And if formal programs aren't an option at all, art has never been more accessible: air-dry clay needs no kiln, so a kid can make something at the kitchen table, let it dry, and finish it themselves. The barrier to starting is lower than it has ever been.
Questions to ask yourself
- What might it do for your anxious kid to have a place where they're allowed to not talk?
- Is there a creative outlet your child would actually choose, even if it's not the one you'd pick for them?
- Where might you and your child do something side by side, without it needing to become a conversation?
- What low-barrier option (a local class, a community center, even air-dry clay at home) could you try this month?
Moving forward
Kids in high-conflict divorce absorb far more than the adults around them realize, and they often can't say so. What Brian Barry describes is a way to help that asks nothing of them they can't give: a place to make something with their hands, at their own pace, with no pressure to be talented and no requirement to explain themselves. It won't fix the larger situation, and it isn't meant to. But giving an anxious teen a corner of their life that is entirely theirs, where failure is expected and starting over is normal, is a powerful thing to offer a child who feels like they've lost control of everything else.
Resources
Brian Barry is the program manager and community-arts lead at the Clay Art Center in Port Chester, New York, which offers ceramics classes and free youth programming.
From Been There Got Out:
- Been There Got Out: When Your Ex Turns the Kids Against You, for parents working to protect their kids through a high-conflict split.
- Helping your kids come through this as whole as possible is at the center of what we do.
Frequently asked questions
What is art therapy for teens?
The phrase covers two related but different things. Formal art therapy is a clinical practice delivered by a licensed art therapist, who uses the creative process to help a teen work through emotional or psychological challenges. More broadly, many parents searching for "art therapy for teens" are really looking for any art-based way to help an anxious or struggling teenager, which can include community art classes, school programs, or simply making things at home. Both have value. As community-arts educator Brian Barry points out, the accessible, non-clinical version has one big advantage: it doesn't require a teen to talk about their feelings to benefit, which makes it far easier to get a reluctant kid to actually participate. If your teen needs clinical support, a licensed art therapist or mental-health professional is the right place to start.
Can making art really help an anxious teenager?
Yes, often, and not because of anything mystical. According to Brian Barry, working with a hands-on medium like clay gives a teen time to process their feelings internally, without the pressure of having to explain them out loud. For a kid whose anxiety shows up as shyness or shutting down, that permission to stay quiet is exactly what lets them engage. The activity also demands focus, pulling attention away from racing thoughts and into the present task. And because the goal is simply "the joy of making," there's no performance to fail at. Making something at your own pace, in a low-stakes setting, can be steadying for a teen carrying more than they can put into words.
Does my teen need talent or experience for this to help?
No. This is one of the most common misconceptions, and Brian Barry, who had zero ceramics experience before running a clay studio, is emphatic that it's false. In his words, "you need no experience, you need no skills, all you really need is some curiosity and some enthusiasm for learning something new." Clay is especially forgiving because it rewards trial and error rather than getting things right immediately. A teen who is afraid of failing can try, watch it not work, and try again, discovering that nothing bad happens when they do. The absence of a talent bar is part of what makes creative outlets so useful for an anxious kid: there's no standard to fall short of, only the process itself.
What if my teen refuses or resists?
Start by getting curious about why, rather than pushing. Brian Barry's first move with a resistant kid is to figure out what's actually going on: are they having a hard day, is there conflict with another kid in the room, were they forced to come, or is something unrelated weighing on them? From there he tries to meet them where they are, sometimes by offering a different project or modifying the one at hand so they can still take part. He also notes that resistance often fades after a class or two, once a kid sees there's no pressure. For parents, the deeper principle is not to force a specific activity: if your teen resists ceramics but likes painting, let them paint. The outlet matters more than the medium.
Why is it okay if my teen doesn't want to talk about their feelings?
Because for many teens, being required to talk is the barrier, not the remedy. Brian Barry points out that adding a mandatory "therapy" conversation to an art activity can actually keep the kids who need it most from showing up: if they know they'll have to discuss their feelings, they simply won't come. Anxiety in teenagers often looks like shyness or silence, and pressuring a quiet kid to open up tends to backfire. His approach is to let them work on their own thing and be available if they want support, without demanding it. Processing something internally, at your own pace, is still processing. Sometimes the most helpful thing an adult can do is offer presence without an agenda.
How does art help teens build confidence and resilience?
Through the built-in setbacks and the sense of ownership. Brian Barry notes that ceramics involves a lot of failure: pieces break, explode in the kiln, or come out unexpectedly. Rather than a downside, he treats that as the lesson, especially for high schoolers, get back up, try again, and use what went wrong to make the next attempt better. That resilience is learned by doing, not by being lectured. Alongside it comes ownership: the satisfaction of turning a plain lump of clay into something you made and can hold. He's watched shy students grow into kids who help teach younger classes and speak comfortably to groups. For a teen who feels powerless over the big things in their life, mastering one small thing start to finish can rebuild real confidence.
Is art a good way to get my teen off screens?
It can be, and clay is a particularly effective example. As Brian Barry puts it, "you can't do clay and have your phone." The medium is messy and requires both hands, so beyond maybe keeping a reference photo open, a teen isn't texting or scrolling while they work. That naturally pulls them off the screen and into a focused, present activity, which is much harder to achieve by simply taking a phone away. For families where a kid has retreated into gaming or social media, especially amid the instability of a high-conflict divorce, a hands-on creative activity offers a real-world alternative that competes with the screen on its own terms rather than through a power struggle.
What if there's no art center near me?
You likely have more options than you think. Brian Barry suggests reaching out to a local university or even a high school to ask whether their ceramics program is open to the public or the surrounding community, since many are. Look up whether there's a community art center nearby, and if it doesn't offer clay, see what else it offers, because the specific medium matters less than having an outlet. And if organized programs aren't available, creative supplies have never been more accessible: air-dry clay needs no kiln, so your teen can make something at the kitchen table, let it dry, and finish it themselves. The barrier to giving a kid a creative outlet is lower now than it has ever been.
