Saving the Arts

“Anyone who believes that you can make art from language is part of a small, nearly-vanishing community, and we should all form a wedge and march on the enemy.”   -Ben Marcus

As a mother and a teacher, I fight to “Keep the Arts” in schools. Yet, I sat idly by while they slipped away from my own life. Poetry readings and gallery strolls did not meet the criteria of my to-do lists. Anything non-essential was cut for the sake of efficiency. My husband and I could manage our household, run a business, stay fit and active, and both balance our careers if we just stuck to the spreadsheet outlining our days. But, there was a problem. A tidy life, trimmed of all excess, was void of necessary space for thinking and creativity. Where was room for interpretation? Where were lively discussions? Art, meant to shift my thinking and stretch my imagination, was absent. Suddenly, the silence was deafening.

I watch my children thrive in a learning environment that celebrates creativity and discovery. Described as a nature-based school, their charter encourages hands-on, outdoor learning. Lessons are contextualized and learning often happens by accident as a byproduct of natural childhood curiosities. They are not given toys but rather are asked to create their own games. They are given space to think, grow and experiment. Where is this space in my busy adult life?

I had a great moment of epiphany last April during Sensoria, the annual celebration of literature and the arts at our college. I found the creative space in my life that I had deemed “non-essential” might just be my lifeline. During that week, I had the opportunity to attend author readings, literary workshops, and a dinner celebrating a writer/blogger. I fell in love with the power of the written word all over again. As a writing teacher, I grade hundreds of essays each semester, but I lost touch with the power of language as an art form.  My heart drank in the words and all the thoughtful, rich conversations that were born from that week of literary celebration. I realized that in the midst of my efficiency and all the positive, healthy habits I considered to be so vital in my life, I had lost my tendency to look for moments of awe and inspiration provoked by art and creative measures. Had I cut one of my soul’s sources of nourishment for the sake of “getting it all done”?

Sensoria Celebration with author, Amelia Morris.

 

Since my epiphany, I have joined a writing club, attended poetry readings, watched more films and documentaries, and strolled through art galleries. Just as I need sleep, exercise, proper nutrition, friendship and laughter, I need art and the space it provides for real thinking. I have never considered myself to be a creative writer. I do not write poetry or fiction, yet my writing has provided a fulfilling, creative outlet and opportunity for building connections between what I read, see, hear and discover. I have always told my students writing is thinking, and I have once again returned to practicing what I preach. Words have the power to make me uncomfortable and stretch my way of seeing this world beyond my spreadsheets and to-do lists. In that continuous shift is where the living happens.  Saving the arts has revitalized my love for learning and engaging in the world around me. Space for creativity has allowed me to take up residence in my own heart, soul and skin, no longer living solely as a task master of my life.