Fearfully and wonderfully made

On a gray November day, Sandra Ramirez is bringing another snowman to life. Wearing a plastic apron to protect her pinstripe dress, Ramirez dips her hand in a small bucket of glue on the tabletop and coats the surface of a round paper mass. “First a white layer, then a newspaper layer, then another white layer,” she explains, as she then carefully covers the ball with 2-inch pieces of torn paper. Once the ball has its third layer, she places it on a table next to the radiator to dry.

Ramirez’s shy smile and calm demeanor contrast with the general buzz of activity at Atelier Ouest, a workshop at Foyer Les Fontenattes, a residential center for developmentally disabled adults in Boncourt, Switzerland. With only two weeks until the local Christmas market opens—for the first time since pre-pandemic—everyone is working to make sure there are enough handmade decorations to sell. Little did they know the virus would again stymie their plans this year.

Against bright yellow walls, colorful papier-mâché creatures crowd shelves and line windowsills: spotted cows with curved horns, basset hounds with mournful eyes, oversized cats, brightly colored chickens. Dragonflies and bees with demure smiles hang from the ceiling. And for the Christmas season, small groups of snowmen and Christmas elves huddle together on every flat surface. Everywhere you look in Atelier Ouest, there’s evidence of the workshop’s guiding principle: Intellectual deficiency does not mean artistic deficiency.

Photo by Christophe Gaschy

At the oval table where Ramirez, 52, is working on another snowman’s head sit four other members of the workshop. Fabien puts glue and paper on a small balloon to create snowman bodies. Once the dried heads and bodies are attached, Sylvie and Laurette paint them white. Nathalie, whose left arm is paralyzed, uses her right hand to make balls out of chopped papier-mâché. They will become the base for small purple elephants. Micha doesn’t feel social today, so he sits apart on a nearby sofa, tearing paper and putting small pieces into a bucket. “The key is finding the part of the process that best matches the abilities of the person,” says workshop director Delphine Brabant. “Our aim is to show how a person with a developmental disability can flourish in the artistic world.”

Atelier Ouest began in 2007 as a place of occupation and expression for residents and has grown into an important bridge between the world of disability and the surrounding community.

When they first started selling at the Christmas market in 2010, organizers were hesitant to have disabled persons participate, afraid it would detract from the ambiance. Several years later, when Atelier Ouest couldn’t attend the market, the organizers responded that their absence would be sorely missed. “They realized our people add to the wonderful ambiance instead of detracting from it,” said Brabant.

In 2018, Atelier Ouest’s booth won the prize for “most beautiful stand” at a Christmas market in the nearby medieval city of St. Ursanne. That gained them free entry in 2019, but last year COVID-19 regulations canceled all markets and kept workshops, including Atelier Ouest, closed most of 2020 and 2021.

During my November visit, Ramirez, who has Down syndrome, says she is excited about the return to the Christmas market. She enjoys seeing people and selling her crafts, and wants to win another prize.

Yet four days before this year’s St. Ursanne market, COVID-19 hit Foyer Les Fontenattes with a vengeance, infecting one-third of staff who attended an employee gathering. To protect the vulnerable residents, leadership requisitioned all uninfected staff as caregivers and canceled all outside outings, abruptly ending this year’s Christmas market plans.

“It’s a profound disappointment,” said Brabant, “but it reminds me how much the residents lead the way. They are fountains of positivity.” Ramirez, who herself spent four weeks hospitalized last year with a severe case of COVID-19, shed a couple of tears when she heard about the cancellation. “It’s hard,” she said. “I’ve had enough of this disease!” But then she turned her attention to consoling the others. “Oh well,” she told Brabant. “It’s going to be OK.”