Achieving Creative Liberation Under Class Systems

I sparked up a conversation with a man the other day after complimenting his locs. He was well dressed, well spoken, and had great posture despite being a few rums deep. I asked him what he did, then watched as he verbally danced around the question without giving me any context that signified his profession. I understood immediately. 

“Oh, you’re an artist!” I exclaimed.

Surprised that I was able to decipher anything from his ramblings, he proceeded to explain he is a photographer, worked at an agency, and teaches - A response that if shared confidently, would have complimented his polished image. So why wasn’t it?

The juxtaposition between presentation and internal identity is one I was all too familiar with, as I too have spilled word soup in response to that dreaded question: ‘What do you do?’ As though those 4 little words unravelled me one syllable at a time, leaving me exposed as a mannerless fraud that had no right to claim a seat at the artistic table. 

For creatives that have difficulty answering this question, it is rarely due to a lack of clarity, ambition, talent, or even experience. It is the imposter syndrome that can linger decades, or sometimes indefinitely, into a creative career. The type that is born from having the creative calling whilst growing up in an environment that continuously affirms narratives around survival and practicality. 

The Class Divide in the Creative Sector, and Redefining Our Perspective of Work

People from marginalised backgrounds are highly underrepresented in the UK creative sector, with individuals from working class backgrounds making up only 16% of all creative jobs. Although the sector is actively looking for ways to diversify hiring, this only tackles part of the problem because getting through the door is one hurdle, but to feel like we belong there is an even bigger one. So how do we, as people from working class backgrounds, achieve creative liberation under class systems?

It is important to acknowledge how the environments we have been exposed to from infancy shape our beliefs and understandings of what is ‘normal’. Despite being several years into my own creative career, I still have moments where I have to take a step back and recognise when I am caught in limiting thought loops or perspectives which are embedded in labour-based survival frameworks.

The most recent example of this was when I hit a creative slump because I failed to engage in activities that support my creativity. Whether it's sitting down with a good book, attending live music events, or simply spending time doing nothing - all are integral to filling the well from which we draw our inspiration. But for those of us from working class backgrounds, we are taught that work is hard, rooted in labour, long hours, and struggle. We are not taught to recognise the importance (or value) of play and rest. 

Whilst it is true that we do work extremely hard as creatives, the same principles that have shaped centuries of traditional workforces cannot be applied to our work. If we are continuously forcing output, at some point we will find ourselves burned out, unable to produce anything of real value. 

Redefining our perspective of work is to recognise that we need equal amounts of input, output, and rest. That what we do when we step away from the work is just as important as what we do within the confinements of our craft. It means unlearning the guilt of doing nothing, knowing that you are giving your brain and nervous system the sustainable foundations to continue creating. 

The Thread of invisible Work, and Developing Self Trust

Much of the work we do as creatives is invisible, but it is still work - not dissimilar to the unseen emotional labour we carry as individuals from working class backgrounds. 

Additional responsibility falls upon the shoulders of people born into low income families. The pressure to physically and financially support the older generation when the time comes (or support the families we start), adds a layer of complexity to career choices. We want to feel financially secure, not only for our own wellbeing but for those we love. We want security whilst pursuing the things which bring us the most joy, but that can feel fragile when we have grown up consuming narratives about ‘the starving artist’. 

Something I have come to recognise within my own journey, is that the truest sense of safety and long term security comes from self trust. Within a world that is ever changing, many of the jobs and industries which once seemed ‘safe and secure’ are under threat due to the introduction of new technologies. 

If we look back over the last 50 years alone, all we can say for certain is that things change and will continue to do so - whether that’s political agendas, industries, or the priorities of each new generation. The list goes on.

A career path that offered the most security 10 years ago does not offer the same level of security today. As creatives it is important that we let go of the somewhat romanticised ideals about what offers the most secure future (as well as the guilt of not choosing that path). 

As an act of strength and compassion in equal measures, we must instead make the choice to develop self trust to act as a protector of our commitment to the arts. Regardless of where we are on our journey, self trust will always be the most valuable tool in our arsenal, and arguably the most sustainable thing we can rely on when it comes to staying grounded in an ever changing world. There will be many times when our careers ask us to take a risk, pivot, or adapt, and self trust proves invaluable within those crucial moments. 

Recognising the Value in Your Contribution and Becoming an Alchemist

Two people with the same craft, same ability, will not have the same approach to their career depending on the level of privilege they have grown up with. In fact, I would argue that someone born into poverty has more to offer because they have had to navigate other barriers whilst working on their craft (although this may be harder for the individual to recognise).

It is not simply the quality of work we put down on the page, the canvas or wherever our creative ideas are birthed into the physical world – it is who we are that adds real value to our work. If the things that make us who we are are born out of hardship, it should not be something we hide or shy away from. We can claim ownership over our struggles without labelling ourselves as victims. 

Taking positives from negative situations by understanding what we’ve learned amongst the struggle is a quiet yet powerful form of liberation that we can pour into our creativity and careers.

Whilst I am mindful not to romanticise the challenges in my life, there have been several times that I have taken a complex situation and channelled it into my work to create something beautiful. Not intentionally, but because art for me has always been a way of expressing something that is occupying too much mental or emotional space and demands release. To go from crying on my bedroom floor to developing some of the best lyrics I've ever written is not self indulgent, it is a form of alchemy. 

Art allows us to turn pain into pleasure, pressure into process. To take a step back at the end of that process and witness how a challenge has been converted into something beautiful provides us with those rare moments where we can give ourselves a pat on the back and say “You’re a wizard, Harry.” 

For the times we find ourselves in, using creativity as a form of alchemy allows us to be of service to the world in ways few other industries can, because our work speaks directly to the emotions and experiences of our fellow human beings. And whilst the arts or the services we provide as creatives may be undervalued by the state, governing bodies, or even the consumers that take it for granted, it is essential we remember with pride the significance of the work we do. Because the true depth of its impact cannot be quantified. 

Let that knowing alone be the root of your creative liberation. 

. . .

Whether your creative liberation takes place in solitude or is sparked within shared spaces, it is a process of learning, recognising, and remembering your personal value. Respect yourself and the work enough to rest, breathe, play, and process. Do so without guilt as you recognise that the challenges we’ve faced under class systems are a result of those systems, not due to faults in our character.

We can acknowledge the difficulties, but not be defined by them. We can experience the challenges, and we can alchemise them.

Although the physical barriers may be very real, we cannot allow the psychological barriers to hold us back from going after the things we are passionate about. Because that is how we achieve creative liberation under class systems – by recognising the strength and tenacity we possess as survivors of a flawed system, and using it to propel ourselves forwards with our heads held high.