New Project: Chapter 14
I hear arguments abounding.
“Sure, easy for you to say. You’re an artist.”
“I can’t afford the materials. They’d take food off the table.”
“I work full time and have school-age kids. There’s not a second in the day.”
“Oh yeah? You’re well off and have the luxury of a spare bedroom. We live in a tiny apartment.”
“Fifteen minutes a day? Are you kidding? I’ve got a toddler and a sick mother. If I had time like that I’d be napping.”
In answer, I reiterate; privilege is granted or taken. Excuses justify behaviors that feel risky or downright dangerous. Often they are provided by those who would disempower us to further cement the belief that giving to others takes priority over self-love.
Here are the excuses and realities:
Excuse: “Sure, easy for you to say. You’re an artist.”
Reality: I didn’t start out that way. I discovered sculpture by accident and loved it so much it eventually became my profession.
Excuse: “I can’t afford the materials. They’d take food off the table.”
Reality: Creativity doesn’t require more than a pencil and piece of paper, the voice God gave you, or the Legos your kids play with. If materials are really important than get creative about your budget or how to borrow them.
Excuse: “I work full time and have school-age kids. There’s not a second in the day.”
Reality: Every time you turn on the television, you turn off an opportunity to be creative. Skipping the dishes, or assigning them to someone else, will not end the world. You don’t often complain when you’re child draws instead of watching the news or cleaning her room, do you?
Excuse: “Oh yeah? You’re well off and have the luxury of a spare bedroom. We live in a tiny apartment.”
Reality: Place is more an idea than location. When you create Place, you are committing time and energy to something you love. You can join a writing group, take a class, or walk in the woods.
Excuse: “Fifteen minutes a day? Are you kidding? I’ve got a toddler and a sick mother. If I had time like that I’d be napping.”
Reality: Creativity calms and energizes. In addition, if all your energy is going to care for others, you hurt yourself physically, emotionally, and mentally. Over time, that expenditure can do real damage. I used to land in the hospital on a regular basis because I was so busy taking care of business (family and paycheck) that I didn’t take care of myself.
Everything we do is a gift to ourselves. We must own that and act accordingly. Sometimes it’s wonderful to put my husband first. I love to make him an extravagant dinner when he least expects it, give him a massage, or simply put on some music and pull him off the couch for a dance. The look on his face is worth every effort I make. However, if my whole life is about what other people need then I’m contributing to my own oppression.
Harsh words, certainly. And yet there’s truth to them. How many times a day can a spouse or child call for you and expect you to drop what you’re doing, walk across the house to where they are so you can hear them, and then give them the attention they demand without wanting to murder them?
When I created my office, I put my foot down. This is my space. No one is allowed to enter without permission. When I’m in it, no one is allowed to interrupt me unless the emergency is kin to the house burning down. I don’t bring my phone and haven’t connected my office computer to the internet. I shut out the world so I can listen to myself.
Initially, my blew me off. My door would crash open and someone would say, “Didn’t you hear me calling?”
The first time I replied, “I’m working. Get out,” I thought surely the repercussion would be ugly. Instead, my son said sorry and closed the door softly behind him.
When I claimed Place, space, and right to take care of myself, I gave my family permission to do the same. I also informed them that if my time and privacy weren’t of value, neither was theirs.
This is what taking privilege looks like. No one in my family was willing to grant it; they had no reason to do so. As long as I was willing to serve, they were happy to let me.
The same is true at work, in a grocery store, at a fine restaurant, or walking down the street. If you wait for people to grant you privilege, they won’t. If you take privilege, most will validate your right to it.
It is my privilege to be an artist and a mother. It is my privilege to have the down time I need to be whole and happy. It is my privilege to take care of my body, enjoy the company I keep, laugh out loud and sometimes weep. Privilege is, by definition, right. It is my right to be equal and exercise autonomy. It is my right to be free and treated accordingly. The revolution that began in 1775 continues. The ideology that framed The Declaration of Independence is still evolving, but its premise is sound: All of us are created equal and endowed by our creator with certain inalienable rights, that among these are life, liberty and the pursuit of happiness.”
No one gets to trample these – especially us – but we do so all the time. We’ve been taught that sacrificing ourselves for the sake of others is not only our lot, but how we belong. It’s supposed to make us happy, but seldom does. When it doesn’t, society tells us we have no one to blame but ourselves. It’s time to stop listening to that tired narrative and begin thinking for ourselves.
In her book, Lean In: Women, Work, and the Will to Lead, Sheryl Sandberg says, “[P]eople constantly back away from honesty to protect themselves and others. This reticence causes and perpetuates all kinds of problems: uncomfortable issues that never get addressed, resentment that builds, unfit managers who get promoted rather than fired, and on and on. Often these situations don’t improve because no one tells anyone what is really happening. We are so rarely brave enough to tell the truth.” Sandberg says women need to come to the table, lean in to the conversation, and take their rightful place at home and in the workforce.
That means taking privilege. It means giving to ourselves first and accepting responsibility for that decision. It means making Place, claiming space, and committing to the discipline of loving – first self and then others – by creating lives we choose instead of those we’re expected to want.
