A Universal Creativity Strike
Happy Labor Day
With many actors and writers protesting their contracts, much of the creative class is already on strike. But what if there was a wider strike on creativity? Something that included all kinds of big-c creativity, like dancing and painting murals, and little-c creativity, like making a new snack or inventing a faster way to put away the dishes? Imagine sculptures covered in blankets. Museums closed. Books vanished. Radios silenced. Nothing to download. No pictures to caption. But also no problem solving or family dance parties. No exploring and finding new routes. No choosing jewelry or tinkering with recipes.
The effects would be so bold and bleak, it feels reckless to even contemplate. Strikes are painful. No one takes going on strike lightly, because the consequences are felt on both sides. On a personal level, that might mean anything from feeling grumpy to falling into a deep depression. As a people, we would lose inspiration, hope, and understanding. But perhaps mothers need to join the fight.
Sometimes we need a break to truly appreciate what we have.
Demands? I have a few:
Space and time to daydream, experiment, play and create
Respect for marginalized voices
Freedom of expression
Generous amounts of money given to artists and mothers (some of the most creative people on earth) and permission to use it however we see fit
A true appreciation for the vital role creativity plays in all our lives
I never thought of myself as being creative when I was growing up, even though I sang, made movies with my friends, and played piano. My family didn’t name those activities as creative. They seemed more like idle hobbies, nothing to be celebrated. If we talked about creativity at all, it was something that happened on stage, in museums, and in books, not in our home. I grew up to be a writer and an editor, doing work most people would consider creative, but it took me a long time before I saw myself as creative and actually took my own ideas seriously. When I became a mother, there were many reasons it would have made sense to stop working on my personal projects or even give up work altogether. But I felt more creatively ambitious than ever before. I was surprised how much creativity motherhood demanded, and I noticed I was creative in ways I had never given myself credit for. I also appreciated my creative life more than ever, missing my writing whenever I had to take breaks.
But what if we took a break together? What if we made people notice what we do? What if all the invisible making we do every single day could be celebrated? That could be life giving for mothers everywhere.
In Solidarity,
Heidi