Tell me, if you win, would it show? In a thousand years, who would know?

EVERYONE WATCH THIS:

This man came into one of my classes yesterday. Ben Cameron, currently Program Director for the Arts at the Doris Duke Charitable Foundation, former Executive Director of the Theater Communications Group, etc., etc. Remember when I gushed on about Brian McLaren? Same deal here. Infinitely inspiring and positive. A lot of what he talked about he covers in this TED talk... but he started by talking about the importance of core values, both as organizations and as individuals. He defined a core value as something you will continue to do even if you're punished for doing it, which I thought was beautiful. He spoke of that really in relation to his career path--lots of things have fallen into place for him and he attributes that to following his core values, which have helped him know when to say yes and when to say no. On that note, he mentioned that often in school they help us discover what we want to do and how we can go about doing it, but the driving force that will carry us through is actually WHY we do it, and that "burnout isn't physical exhaustion, it's when you get disconnected from what's important to you". Which, as we may recall, was the impetus for starting this blog, for going away to Montreat to begin with... I was disconnected from what was important to me (God), and so I went back there to reconnect.

Something he spoke a lot about was about the arts connecting to communities, to people, the idea that the arts have something to give. He spoke of organizations that do not impose themselves on communities, but rather work with and engage communities, who make their work for a purpose that is not just about making art but rather affecting the individual. I've been thinking a lot about this for the past couple years, but particularly this semester as my classes have really widened to looking at life outside school, the business of theater, non-profit organizations. And, of course, the eternal questions of "how do you find ways to practice your art when life gets in the way?" and such. There's this idea that we, of course, feel that we must practice our art unless we'll be miserable and die. I don't feel that way. I don't need to practice "my art", whatever that means. I don't care enough about it. But I care about the world and I care about YOU, and I love the world and you deeply and the best way I know for ME to be the caregiver I am called to be us through art.

Ego is a tricky little thing. I don't think it's evil, I think it must be used well. The arts are often thought of as an ego-driven field... perhaps they are, and perhaps that's not a bad thing. The ego that causes us to share what we have so that others can use it is surely a good thing. But the ego that has us starting new organizations to do what's already being done? Not sure about that. Do we need another off-off-Broadway nonprofit focusing on reinventing Shakespeare? Several of us in Ghana got into a screaming (literally, even I screamed) argument about this in regards to NGOs. It's a complicated issue, but there's often this aspect of "I want to have MY non-profit!" which I don't think is ultimately that useful. Do we need, in this economy, more theaters that serve the same need? No, I don't think so... particularly when there are other needs that are NOT being met. Ben Cameron today mentioned theaters whose mission is basically keeping their doors open. What are they doing? Why does it matter? It seems selfish to me.

Don't get me wrong. There are people who create work that is so totally them and for them and I love it. I get to go into their brains for a few hours and it's the best time. There's value in it, but it's not the only option, and often it's an overexplored option.

Our world is changing rapidly, with technology advances, economical problems, globalization. And in this, the arts are going to be extraordinarily important (or maybe we'll ignore them and be far worse off). Training in the arts is training in flexibility, collaboration, communication, and creative problem-solving, and that's what we need right now when our old systems crumble and new possibilities arrive on the scene every day. I actually feel much more prepared to enter the "job market" than if I'd been an English major, because in theater we learn how to create jobs for our selves, we learn how to work with all kinds of people. And with these tools that the arts have, they could surely bring people together more than they are now.

Now they're not, really. Besides a few noteworthy examples of companies (which Ben Cameron mentions), and besides certain socio-economic groups of audience members who find themselves engaged by current theatrical performances. But are we actually reaching new people? Are we actually helping them? Do we care about that? There are questions being asked about how to continue to development of theaters, questions about how to attract donors and audience members and it's all about how to engage people for OUR purposes, not for THEIR OWN purposes. It treats them as commodities, rather than people with their own point of view, their own value and validity. This superiority we can feel towards those not in the "professional theater world" is really not useful to anyone. It's when the ego is paired with a feeling of superiority that things become truly selfish and even hurtful.

It seems to me that we have so many things we can learn from each other. For me, I notice it between the arts and religion--two worlds I have feet strongly planted in. Someone who knows more about science than I do can find it there, we can find it anywhere, and communication between groups that might not otherwise talk is imperative to moving forward as a society. If we admit that communication is a vital part of person-to-person relationships, why don't we realize that communication between groups is vital how we function as a world?

I think it's fear. Honestly, truly, I think it's fear. When you enter into conversation with someone who is not coming from the same place as you, truly enter into CONVERSATION with them, not just trying to prove your point without listening, you open yourself up to conflict. Things can be uncomfortable, you can be wrong, things you've believed might be challenged, not only by someone else, but by you yourself. And that's understandably scary, but we cannot move forward incestuously. It's safe, but causes atrophy.

Ben Cameron likened this shift to the Protestant Reformation. (The second he did this in class, my face lit up and several people furtively glanced at me.) He spoke of the internet and the printing press operating in similar ways, and the thing that really got me was the idea that the Reformation challenged the idea that we needed an intermediary (ie: the Roman Catholic church). With more and more access to means of creating art becoming available, the Myth of the Artist Bringing Aesthetic Experiences to the Layman is graying. Just as the Roman Catholic church would say, "We are your way to God," there are artists today that say, "We are your way to Art." And as the Protestant church was made to say, "We all can touch God, let's help each other do that," artists can turn to saying, "We can all create art, let's help each other do that."

He made sure to note that it's not like we need to obliterate what already exists. The Roman Catholic church is still here and helping tons of people. But now there are more ways for different people to worship and grow closer to God, engaging those who would be shut out by the Roman Catholics (myself included). This is the direction art can move. IS moving. And we can help it.

We got into a class discussion about all this, and I mentioned my working at Montreat, meeting people who were so interested in theater, weren't "theater people" at all, but brought in completely new perspectives and energies, and why WOULDN'T we use that? When I said, "I worked at a Presbyterian conference center in North Carolina for two summers," Ben interrupted and said, "Which one?" I said, "Montreat," and he said, "I've been there! I'm from North Carolina and did church camps and all that." Later when our teacher asked him what he'd be doing if he wasn't doing what he was doing, he looked at me and said, "You know, with mentioning Montreat and all that, I think I would've been a preacher." The two of us chatted for a bit after class, I told him about Brian McLaren, and we reminisced about Black Mountain, Pisgah, Swananoa. Hilarious and lovely. At one point in the class he even mentioned theater artists teaching speech to clergy to help with scripture reading. (OH HI. HI.)

It was such a breath of fresh air to have class with him, and validated a lot of what I've been thinking. We had to write mission statements for one of my producing classes this semester, and for the life of me I couldn't comprehend starting a theater company for its own sake, so my statement had to do with a company that would engage various theatrical and spiritual communities in communication and collaboration, so we can explore together, and grow together, and affect each other and be vital to all of our lives. My teacher said he hadn't heard a mission statement like that before and I wanted to slam my head into a wall.

Because frankly?

Art doesn't matter.

Lives matter tremendously.