Not-so-trivial Pursuits
Why having a strong support system early on is so important and not having one can have life-long effects.
Yesterday, as I was designing away on my laptop in the tiny coffee shop I frequent, I couldn’t help but overhear a meeting between a young woman and what I can only assume was a business or career advisor. It was clear that, professionally, she wasn’t where she wanted to be, in a business that she wasn’t in love with. He asked her how she got here. She replied that she had wanted to attend art school but her father stated in no uncertain terms that, not only would he not pay for an art school education, he would refuse to support her when she inevitably couldn’t make a living, because “that’s what happens to artists.” As saddening as this was to me, I recalled the number of people I know who had been given similar ultimatums. Her advisor even said that, in a way, he understood. His own daughter had graduated from art school the previous spring and he worried about her future. The difference, of course, being that he chose to support his daughter in her pursuits no matter how it made him feel.
Now, I am not in the habit of eavesdropping and in a million years would never chime in on a complete stranger’s conversation, but their exchange struck a personal chord with me. I recalled how my own father (a banker) told me that when my brother and I were young and began to exhibit an aptitude for art, he wanted to encourage us but feared that we might actually want to do this for a living. *Gasp!* He struggled to the extent that he confided in a child psychologist friend of his about what to do. He explained that he could see the talent but didn’t want his sons to end up as “starving artists” either. His friend told him if you don’t let them pursue their art, they will resent it for the rest of their lives. Along with the support of my mom (who didn’t seem to struggle with this at all), my parents went all in. That’s when the Saturday morning classes at the Museum of Fine Arts started, the art supply catalogs began to appear at the house, as did the presentation boards from the agency my dad had hired to rebrand the bank he was an executive at.
The recollection of all this drove me to go WAY beyond my comfort zone and actually inject myself into somebody else’s private conversation. I opened with an apology and went on to inform them that they were sitting next to somebody who, nearly 35 years ago, attended art school himself and is sitting here this very moment applying what I learned there to my own business that I have been running for 16 of those years. I told them that you can absolutely make a living after art school. You don’t have to starve and that you can, in fact, (as many of my classmates have) thrive. It’s not always easy and you have realize that your path is likely going to be very different than your peers who choose a more traditional route. To my relief, not only were they very receptive, a genuine look of relief came over the face of the advisor. They resumed their conversation and I went back to my work and, later, as I got up to leave, they both thanked me again for speaking up. As I walked away, I couldn’t help but wonder if the young woman would be having this meeting at all if she had felt free to pursue her dreams the way I had.
