The Power of the Arts

Yesterday I experienced the power of the arts.

As a proud parent, I attended a performance by the Wolvercote Creative Writing Workshop, part of the Oxbright International Arts Festival. Five young teens shared short stories they'd turned into paper motion movies (think stop-motion animations, built frame by (slow and painful!) frame from paper and pen). I'm not sure what I was expecting. Something cute, maybe. Something amateurish and nice..?

I was so wrong. Within the first two minutes I was sobbing. Each teen had put soul and dreams into their story. The films shared the dread of depression, the quiet power of pets and hugs, the inner demons in our minds, the challenge of figuring out what being "mixed" means, and the strange shape of unexpected adventures.

It reminded me of the work the arts do. The importance of sitting down to create. How, through creation, we learn things about ourselves that don't surface any other way; thoughts and worries that only come out through painful pen strokes, tearing a story out of paper the way a chisel tears a face out of rock.

And it reminded me how many worlds live inside every young person. The quick smile you catch as you greet a teen in passing covers universes of thought, feeling, need. Art gives those worlds expression. It does the deep work of connecting.

Through the process, of course, each teen sharpened their language skills, became more able to communicate, and will no doubt do better in whatever exams come their way. But that's beside the point. Art goes beyond assessment goals to life goals. The work of processing experience and emotion into words will outlast any exam.

What also struck me was the vulnerability and generosity of it all: five young people choosing to hand over their inner world so freely, maybe without even knowing what a gift that is. Maybe as you age you become so calloused by life this tender core is hard to find. Or, perhaps, it is that the arts force generosity of spirit, something our world so desperately needs.

Or course, none of this could have happened without the teachers. Six weeks of prompts, patient and kind nudging, and the energy and laughter to keep bringing them back. I want the facilitators to know that their work didn't just shape five young writers. It reached everyone who loves them. Having seen first hand my kid work through it, and be changed by it - The North Wall Arts Centre: thank you. May we, as a society, remember the power of the arts, and keep supporting them.