BY MIKA BRAAKMAN Owner + Chief Hat Maker A PAPER HAT | art + design supply

“A plant needs roots in order to grow. With man it is the other way around: only when he grows does he have roots and feels at home in the world.”

— Eric Hoffer

It is often said that children make the best teachers. Even before I became a mother, I’ve always believed that to be true. Children have remarkably playful minds, and their creativity inspires me. As a lifelong student of design (and a creative maker in my own right), I am certain that no matter what our age, those playful minds still exist within us. Keeping that connection has kept me inspired, curious and vibrant throughout my design career in fashion and industrial design. And that endless well of inspiration we call creativity continues to resonate into every part of my day at the little art and design supply shop I own and run on Baker Street in Maplewood called, A Paper Hat.

To me, the shop is so many things — my happy place, my obsession, my heart space. It also has so many functions: It supplies our families with activities that don’t involve screens. It’s where you can get back-to-school items, office supplies or a last-minute card for someone you love. It’s the place to geek-out over pens (black ink or blue? fine point or bold?). Everywhere you look, the shelves are filled with creative materials for making models, telling stories through drawing, or expressing ourselves with color.

A Paper Hat is a place where often we can discuss our hopes and dreams, share memories and celebrations, express love, gratitude and sometimes, even our fears. It’s a place to be joyful, inspired and to inspire each other. It’s a space for being honest, open and remaining connected. (And I’m happy to say, it’s also a safe space for kids if they are lost or need to call home!) A Paper Hat is a multi-faceted little community hub that welcomes everyone who comes through its doors. In fact, I try to greet everyone acknowledging our shared humanity: “Welcome!” And I mean it sincerely. 

During COVID, honoring that welcome was tested. Like just about every other local business, we had to shut everyone out and it was heartbreaking. The pandemic sucked much of the joy out of our space because the people who love it as much as I do weren’t there. With their absence went much of my will to keep pushing this little business forward. I needed to find my resolve and show my daughter and my family that I was resilient. I had to keep showing up and just get on with it. We all did.

Remembering why I built this shop in the first place was the only way forward, but that was easier said than done. As I juggled between the shop and first-time homeschooling, there was no time to feel sorry for myself. I had to pivot to get an online store up and running as quickly as possible. I was overwhelmed with the solo, daunting task of setting up a functioning e-commerce site that could represent a mere sample of the over 4,000 products we have in store. Three website iterations later, the establishment of our online store carried the business forward (the Payroll Protection Program didn’t help us as we were not eligible). But without any doubt, it was the community’s unwavering support that saved us from closing our doors. 

The gratitude I felt before COVID was surely there but A Paper Hat’s survival after the pandemic was never a given. But it did survive, and for that I am forever humbled. I’m immensely grateful for the many people who supported all the SOMa shops as best they could during those dark months — and that will never be lost on me. We live and work in a truly wonderful place. We kept a promise to each other by shopping locally. And by regularly checking in with each other, we really shared this unforgettable time of challenges and changes together. 

If you asked me what I was most surprised by this past year, it would be by the absolute and glorious resilience of the children. Our wonderful children. Children of all ages, really. The youngest ones studied our faces, freshly flexing their eyes and learning to read our expressions. They looked into my strangers’ eyes, eyes wearing funny round glasses, and tried to figure me out. I was always smiling right back at them.

Our middle school kids, who often frequent the shop, were also showing plenty of resilience. When you asked how school was, many said they were doing fine. They were holding up their heads and making the most of it. And they had found ways to be okay with things and to cherish their connections with each other.  

Persistence was seen in the high school and college students, too, young adults who buckled down and focused to get through the year. They remained active participants in their futures, honing their talents and pursuing their interests even if it was all online. With everything familiar turned upside down, I imagine that for the very first time, many of them had to evaluate and process so much about their young lives. That is some grounding stuff.

What will this strange year have taught our kids? What has it taught each of us? Perhaps it’s that we are all much more resilient than we ever dared believe. That we’ve all had to find ways to live by example and to embody strength in the face of hardship. Our survival and very sanity depended on it. And what resonates with me still is how our children, even the youngest ones, helped us to remember one of the most important lessons: We need to take care of one another. 

What I really, really want as we move rapidly back to “normal” is for us all to never forget that we absolutely, and without question, are all connected. Let’s find solace in that and honor it together.