Making Room for Voice
in the Face of No

“Why not go out on a limb? That’s where the fruit is.”
—Frank Scully, journalist

Art is an opportunity to have a voice. Human beings are social beings, and we navigate the world through sight. We can’t help but express ourselves visually. We are made for art.

Then Reality sits its hefty bum on our paint brush and limits the range of our marks. As artists we learn how to operate within the confines of our chosen field. Commercial artists are tied to the visions of their clients. Fine artists have enormous freedom, but even they are tethered to whims of the market.

The Team

I am a teaching artist, a TA. Creative Art Works’ summer youth employment program has just come to a close. Dani Coca was my TA partner, and artist Jonelle Austin was our assistant. Our team included 21 youth apprentices (YAs): some artists, some not, some wanted to hone their skills, some wanted new experiences, some just needed a paycheck, almost all of us were strangers.

The Assignment

We were commissioned to design and paint two murals (8’x40’ and 8’x20’) for a major company. Because the store was still under construction, we created them off-site on wooden panels. YAs worked 4 days a week, 7 hours a day. They interviewed the client to understand the assignment, brainstormed, designed, presented best ideas to the client, prepped panels, painted, planned an unveiling event, then celebrated with the client, all in the span of 6 weeks.

As the intensive began, I wondered how visions of a corporation meld with visions of a nonprofit on the final canvas. One thing I appreciate about Creative Art Works (CAW) is that the jobs they offer expose YAs to hard realities of being a working artist: ridiculously tight deadlines, the challenge of pitching a client, and of course, Rejection.

The No

Rejection can be bewilderingly unfair. Initially we had an enthusiastic green light from the client. But then in that perfect storm of miscommunication and shuffling of corporate management, one of our approved designs was axed, and the other approved design required an overhaul. YAs had already drawn out both designs on the panels. Now they were asked to prime over their work and start over with a design they were less connected to.

Our jobs as mentors was to guide young artists through that painful experience. How do you maintain your artistic integrity and serve a client who ultimately may not need you? How do you speak your truth and speak with respect when the “wrong” decision is made? How do you make room for your voice?

We process Rejection in different ways. Fellow TA Ryan Davis reminded us to “make room for the feelings.” A different CAW team, assigned to another site, had had its first design rejected earlier in the summer. Upon receiving the news, their TA Will Watson invited YAs to take a walk with him. Just walk, and spend time with those uncomfortable emotions.

TA Abby Walsh asked me, “What do you do when you get upset?” I answered that I hit things like pillows or a punching bag. In her brilliant teacherly way, she simply said, “Next semester I’m going to build a piñata with my class.” Nothing more.

And that is how a piñata became part of our mural-making process.

Processing Through a Piñata

We had gotten the Rejection at the end of the week, after the last YA had gone home. Dani spent the weekend redesigning the murals (there was no time to confer with YAs, but she drew inspiration from their many sketches). I prepared our Monday lesson plan, which would guide us as we told YAs the bad news. The piñata I made was a plain cardboard box, cut up and reassembled with painter’s tape so that it would break after a number of smacks. I filled it up with candy and cheap art supplies.

CAW program managers came on site to support us on Monday. They took the role of telling YAs that the client had rescinded approval of our original designs. Ivory Nunez-Medrano, himself a TA, suggested YAs write and draw their reactions to the news. He said, “If you don’t document it, it disappears after you talk.” We shared our texts and images. Most YAs were stunned, many were hurt, angry, confused, some were annoyed, some unbothered.

I like this interesting idea of documenting something that hurts. Why would you want to remember pain? But perhaps you will—down the road when you are healed—and then you have a record of where you have been. By asking YAs to write and draw their reactions, Ivory was acknowledging the importance of those thoughts and feelings.

After that initial exercise, YAs were each given two scraps of colored paper. On one, I asked them to write positive aspects of their jobs. They wrote about new friendships, the team they were building, new skills they were learning. I secretly tucked those positives into the piñata before presenting it to them—this plain, ugly box covered in blue painter’s tape.

On the second paper, I asked YAs to write what they wanted to say to the nameless executives who nixed our design, or to draw the client as a character. We passed around the piñata, and YAs taped their negatives to it, decorated that sorry box with caricatures and curses. Our Rejection was suddenly a very entertaining Art project. We strung up the piñata (twine, broom handle, ladder), and YAs took turns whacking it until the cardboard gave way and released all the goodies inside.

Making a Space to Listen and Be Heard

It took longer than one morning to digest the Rejection. YAs flew through the process of executing the new murals. But just because they had done an excellent job, did not mean the hurt and the anger had gone away. YAs never got to speak to the client about the final decision—it might have been an amazing session. But CAW’s executive director Karen Jolicoeur did go out of her way to talk with YAs as we planned the unveiling event, where we’d be seeing our client.

One YA was so eloquent in describing the heartbreak of the situation. He didn’t argue that our old design was superior to the new one. Instead he pointed out how the original design had been the culmination of our efforts as a team. We were a group of strangers when we began. Not everyone was an artist, but we went on a journey together, learning about the neighborhood we had been tasked to represent. We all participated in the design process, learned how to disagree, worked out concepts. That growth and connection was encapsulated in our original design. For this YA, that was what felt rejected.

“I’m not gonna lie,” said another YA. “It hurt.” This YA was not an artist. In fact, he chose to be in charge of clean up every day just to avoid painting. But he had signed up for this job to have a new experience, wandered out of his comfort zone. He had helped pitch the original design to the client, and the major element that he had presented was canceled. He knew the Rejection was not personal, but it still hurt.

For me, the experience was painful because I felt like I had betrayed the YAs. Early on, I had told them, “This client wants you. This client wants your ideas and your energy in their store.” Upon the Rejection my words suddenly felt like a lie. Though they weren’t. The client had specifically come to CAW, requesting mural work, and the client’s local team had enthusiastically given our original design the green light. But someone higher up the corporate food chain, who had never met the YAs, who had entered the picture late in the game, they said, No.

“It’s better we learn about compromise now than later when it’s a bigger issue,” said another YA grimly. She was one of our star artists. She plans to build a career as a creative.

After the group discussion with CAW’s executive director, a YA said, “I feel like I have a voice… I still don’t have closure, but it’s better than nothing.”

Thoughts on Voice

I am a big proponent of saying something when things are not right. I am lucky that CAW believes in radical honesty. Too often, people avoid speaking up: they don’t want to rock the boat, they don’t want to be penalized, they don’t want to be a snitch, they don’t think it will do any good.

I find it maddening when individuals refuse to share grievances with someone who has the power to do something. Holding my tongue is like trying to ignore a giant itch. So I speak up (sometimes naively, but it’s an itch). As a result, sometimes things improve. Sometimes they don’t. Often, they remain imperfect, but they are better. I might still not be happy, but I feel better. The needle gets moved.

Voice is a scary thing. CAW’s mission is to empower young New Yorkers. Like every nonprofit, CAW works hard to balance the ideals of its Vision against the politics of Money. My big wish for the youth we serve is that they know that their voices hold power. You might not have status, you might not have money, you do have a voice. Honesty is messy business, but if you learn to wield your voice with skill and grace, the world may stop to listen when you speak.

Gratitude

I am thankful for fellow teaching artist Dani Coca, who art directed both murals, teaching artist assistant Jonelle Austin who kept us going with her sunny vibes, and program manager/artist Riki Sabel who spent the season putting out fires to keep the entire CAW on course. Creative Art Works is full of smart, passionate, capable individuals, who care.

I am so proud of the team we built this summer. Sometimes I would pause in my tasks just to appreciate the hubbub of chatter, music, and laughter as YAs worked together. There are so many voices in art. And even better, there is also connection.