“Ms. Ali? The Artist will see you now, you can follow me this way.”
That’s what Art does. It takes me out of the anxiety-filled waiting room and prescribes me what I need.
This piece is in no way meant to pin the doctors and nurses of the world against the painters and singers. They both serve unique functions but I wouldn’t go as far as to say that they’re entirely incomparable. Both heal us. They help us feel better physically, mentally, emotionally, spiritually. They bring to the surface that which is meant to be looked at, felt, and known. When it comes to the topic of healthcare, Doctors and Artists can both use a round of applause.
I want you to think on the past six months, the quarantine season, and ask yourself: what made me feel better?
As an artist, I think we have fallen into a category of “unpaid essential workers”. We’re undervalued by a capitalistic society and I’m sure there are people scoffing at the direction I’m about to take. Every single day, I am creating. Since March, I’ve been hosting women’s-focused safe spaces multiple times per week on Zoom, producing community-based webinars, presenting keynotes about activism and mental health, using my voice and skills on things that matter to me, editing my first book, and even performing DJ sets online. Although this is all incredibly valuable to me and people have thanked me for this work, it doesn’t hold monetary value—yet. That is the life of an Artist. To invest in your beliefs, your people, and your vision, even if you have to gamble your security and your sanity.
A few weeks ago, a dear friend who is opinionated (to say the least), voiced her frustration with people (like me) who are receiving unemployment. She wasn’t as annoyed with the billions of dollars worth of bail-outs that businesses are receiving, as much as she was with the individuals she sees “sitting at home.” Because it’s easier to grasp that comparison. I said to her, “But Sister my industries have been wiped out. I’ve spent nearly a decade producing events and DJing. Do you expect me to just jump ship from my life’s work and purpose to become a nurse? I didn’t see you having issues with my career path when you 1) partied for hours on the dance floors that I serviced or 2) attended the non-profit experiences that I would produce as my investment in community and education. How can you be annoyed now, when I’m the one grasping at the loss of both my industry, and parts of my identity? Especially considering that how underpaid I’ve been for years, even without a pandemic.”
This piece is less to rant about how unpaid the Artist is, or how essential we are. It’s meant to serve as a reflection point. On a daily basis, who makes you feel better? Doesn’t the Artist help you feel better? Wasn’t it the Artist who helped you feel and heal? Was it not a film or book that put you to sleep last night? Do you not escape through sounds of music in your morning shower? Has the Artist not provided you with endless outlets for your suffering, loss, grief, and depression? When your anxiety skyrocketed during Covid, was it not the Artist who gave you perspective, hope, and peace? Is it not the Artist who gives words and imagery to help you use your voice and take a stance in the midst of revolutions?
Next time you take a photo of the mural on that building, or you post that illustration that summarizes your feelings, or you cry over that scene in your favorite movie, I want you to clap for the Artist. Next time your body viscerally moves to that song that comes on, or you text your friend that podcast that helped you, or you buy those candles for your mom, I want you to clap for the Artist. Next time you hop onto that free Yoga class on IG Live, or stream into that free drawing YouTube webinar, or you sign up for that free photography class, I want you to clap for the Artist.
And of course, a special thank you to every frontline workers who have risked their lives and protected us before, during, and after this pandemic. We honor you.