(Re)Understanding Creativity

 
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(Re)Understanding Creativity

Betsaleel “Bets” Charmelus, CEO, ArtistYear

04-03-2024

Bets” Charmelus, CEO, ArtistYear

I have recently become deeply enamored by the idea of creativity as a form of self-intimacy—the internal practice through which one comes to know oneself. As I dive into my own creativity, I speak a language that is my own. I interface with insecurities that are my own and I find corners of my own mind with more depth and color than I might have expected. I may choose to share the fruits of this creativity with others, but the journey itself is mine. It is a deeply personal rite—which now gives me pause when it comes to urging other humans to perform creativity.

It’s easy for us, as teaching artists, to believe that all humans can access creativity. As the leader of ArtistYear and a practicing teaching artist myself, I understand the inclination. Any notion suggesting otherwise seems to challenge fundamental beliefs about our purpose—if there are people who can’t access creativity, then a place exists where teaching artistry is rendered ineffective. With this line of thinking, however, some nuance in the conversation is lost. Perhaps a necessary addition to the mantra of “All people can access creativity” is “as long as they feel safe enough to do so.” We must come to terms with the fact that accessing creativity is not a given.

To publicly invite someone into creative play—especially someone forced to the margins of a hegemonic society by any number of visible and invisible markers—is to invite them to rely on a muscle that may have long atrophied. The folks I’m referring to are forced to focus their attention outwardly. They face ongoing challenges due to the lack of basic resources such as food, water, and consistent shelter. Often, the pervasive threat of violence, both implicit and explicit, looms as a constant danger.

If you woke up this morning in a bed, or you’re reading this Ensemble issue on a device you paid for, or you haven’t recently heard the sound of a firearm discharging in broad daylight, it might be difficult for you to understand the world that exists for these folks. Even if none of these factors apply to you, there are a whole host of invisible obstacles (like living with a disability, experiencing crushing and predatory debt, or identifying as neurodivergent) that also make the world a dangerous place in a different way. In such a hostile world, being self-intimate is risky, and it is that much more difficult to access creativity.

As artists, creativity often feels innate to us, leading us to overlook what is necessary for someone to engage internally or even with another person present. So what can be done about this?

One of the strategies I’ve had a lot of success with comes down to how we prepare to enter a space and then engage with the space while we’re there. In preparing, it is essential that we honor the stories of the communities we interact with, even before we join them. It’s critical to understand culture, specifically deep culture, without seeking validation from the group for your perception of their experience. (Zaretta Hammond’s work is a good starting place.)

When it comes to engaging a space, I stand by the potency of behavior modeling. Our brains are adept at mirroring actions presented in front of us. We can harness this superpower to demonstrate how humans can participate in creativity despite their surroundings. For example, the Resident Teaching Artists at ArtistYear are trained to engage in creative praxis in front of students. This praxis is established through taking risks, making mistakes, and generating work with students. By observing an artist exercising these skills, students begin to mirror the skills and develop a framework to engage with the world around them.

As with many hard problems, there are many paths forward, and therein lies the power of teaching artistry. Regardless of where it happens, teaching artists are the heralds of multiplicity and the harbingers of creativity. As we dismantle and reassemble our understanding of creativity, our work can foster safe environments where others can deepen their relationship with their creative selves. While things can seem bleak around the world, I’m honored to be working together with the team at ArtistYear, readers of The Ensemble, and teaching artists globally who dare to serve as the models of what a creative, liberated, inter- and intra-connected world looks like.

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