Learning to take care of the arts and take care of myself – Part One

This post is written by Latitude 53’s Writer In Residence, Carolyn Jervis. She writes critically about Latitude 53 programming, the community and more on a regular basis over a six month term from April to September. Read more about the Writer In Residence program.

I’ve been putting off writing the final two posts for my writer in residence work. Or, rather, they’ve been put off for me. Saturday was my first day off in three weeks from my full-time arts job. It shouldn’t come as much of surprise that I found myself ill when my historically hearty immune system just could not take the pressure when stress and the influenza around the office joined forces. I don’t want to ignore just how many people in countless other industries are overworking as a necessity, from corporate executives to academics and so on. However, there is a particular kind of staggering workload taken on by arts professionals that I find difficult to understand, despite being complicit in overworking myself. When is dedication to getting the work done pushing the limits of my health too far?

There are a few things I noticed that make the existence of dedicated visual arts workers incredibly puzzling:

1. They are highly educated and highly intelligent. Part of what I love about working in the arts is the incredible minds of my colleagues and mentors. Sometimes brilliance comes solely from informal education and lived experience, and most people in the arts are wonderful to learn from and collaborate with. However, workers or prospective workers with PhDs must battle it out for highly competitive but likely entry-level and part-time jobs, particularly in the large art institutions. It’s fascinating to me that the arts are magnets for people stalwartly resolved to be a part – any part - of the field.

2. They are terribly underpaid. This is no fault of any individual organization, but rather an issue of chronic underfunding. This workforce of brilliant minds is working very hard to put together important and innovative arts programming, and the majority do so without benefits or the security of full-time employment, doing part-time positions or multiple temporary contracts.

3. They work constantly. Before I secured a full-time position at The Works International Visual Arts Society, I was working three contract positions, one part-time job, and preparing my art show, Love Letters to Feminism, for exhibition in Montreal. I had never, ever worked so much in my life, and yet I’d get to the end of each month having just broken even financially. It wasn’t a schedule I could maintain, but there was something very stimulating for my creativity to be so absorbed in so many different facets of arts work. It has gotten to the point that I have a running pact with one of my former art history professors to take one day off a week, and so far we’re doing a comically poor job of sticking to it.

Is there something wrong with us? Why do we work in an industry that apparently necessitates working too much for not that much. I don’t think I’m being unrealistic to presume that quality and engaging work in the cultural sector deserves financial reward, or at the very least, stability.

Let’s look at this predicament through a different lens.

The arts isn’t exactly a field one falls into, and as I’ve discussed, no one is really in it for the money. Jobs are scarce and often hard-won. In other words, you have to really believe in the importance of what you do and in the mandate of your organization. Otherwise, why would you even bother?

I can only speak to why I bother, and my position is one of a rather new worker in the visual arts field. I believe in the unique power of the visual arts and its ability to intervene in an often-oppressive process of meaning-making imposed upon our highly visual world. Studying art and art theory, and taking the time to look and think about art, has supported and strengthened my ability to think more reflexively about how I understand myself in the world. Using looking and seeing as more than just tools to navigate my life, and to instead feel like an active interpreter of the visual within and beyond the art gallery, uniquely enriches my life.

So, lucky me. I have the privilege of helping to make art happen, which is something that has significance to me. I get to have professional mentorship from the brilliant and hardworking people in my field. This is why I’m willing to give a lot of my time for that cause – to support the creation of art through writing and arts administration and curation.

So, here is the conflict: if art enriches my life and serves an important social role in visual culture production, but also takes all of my time, burns me out on a regular basis, and supports my life in a just-adequate way, don’t the costs and benefits cancel each other out, leaving me questioning what possible value that I’m left with if I’m too tired to enjoy it?

My answer is yes, it’s worth it my time and commitment. But that doesn’t mean the lifestyle my work requires is the least bit healthy if I continue to pile new side projects on top of my existing work commitments. I need to learn to say no sometimes, and to prioritize feeding and clothing myself. I need not become an insomniac. We could all use more municipal, provincial, and federal recognition and financial support. We have a strong community of talented artists and arts professionals. And Edmonton is deserving of a well-loved and well-programmed visual arts scene full of people who are capable of fulfilling their responsibilities to their work and to their well-being.

Make sure you keep your eyes peeled for Thursday’s post, my final work as Latitude 53’s Writer in Residence. Find out what’s next for me and read more about what it means to participate in our arts scene.

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