Breaking Barriers Through Creativity
When contemplating my career choices, a creative profession often appeared as a realm exclusive to the privileged few – individuals armed with financial safety nets from their parents, insider insights and connections to influential figures in creative studios, galleries, and the world of expensive art supplies.
In my early years, the creative sector felt distant and unfamiliar; gallery visits were non-existent, and encounters with professional artists, illustrators, or designers were unheard of. I didn't resonate with the creatives depicted in books either. After receiving a copy of The Story of Art to aid my coursework, I noticed that, despite featuring countless artists, only one was a woman. Perhaps I was less capable? Society promised me that this was not the case – that if I worked hard enough, I would be unfased by a lack of funds or testosterone levels. I hoped I could challenge the notion that the arts were reserved for one particular type of person over another.
There is an arrogance that The Arts are reserved for the ‘genius’ members of society who possess a form of natural talent – a talent that can rescue them from their humble beginnings, should they work hard enough. It's a narrative that implies we should fight endlessly and repay some imagined immense privilege for making a living out of Art. Worse, it suggests dismissing the remarkable artistic skills and creativity of those outside of the industry, solely because they aren’t officially recognised as established or award winning creatives.
Though my creative skills were encouraged at school, when I decided to pursue it as a serious career option this was often met with condescension. The careers advisor tried to dissuade me, presenting options that were more ‘sensible.’ Despite my art teacher's encouragement of my creativity, he predicted that I too would become an art teacher, being one of the few realistic creative careers available to me. I was confused when he told another pupil that he had a future as a commercial artist. I wondered why he had more options than I, despite us both having a similar level of artistic abilities. I was prepared to take a risk to seek an alternative path to the one advised, but at the time I struggled to comprehend the financial challenges that posed for my family and the extent to which they worried about my future. There were no back-up funds to enable unpaid work placements or afford the travel for opportunities. Yet I was still one of the privileged ones that had access to higher education, even if it did take a lot of persuasion and financial debt.
Getting a foot in the door to any creative profession has always been challenging, but the barriers do not seem to be loosening. Despite the creative industry contributing over £100bn to the UK economy each year, GCSE arts have declined by 47% and A Level arts entries declined by 29% since 2010. On top of this, the proportion of working class actors, musicians and writers has shrunk by half since the 1970s. People who grew up in professional families are four times more likely than those with working-class parents to be in creative work.
“Though you may feel more at ease working with people who share your background, don’t be fooled by your comfort. Hiring individuals who do not look, talk, or think like you can allow you to dodge the costly pitfalls of conformity, which discourages innovative thinking.”
The industry's lack of diversity negatively affects us all, as numerous studies highlight the advantages of diverse teams. Despite evidence to show the benefits, employers are often reluctant to employ people with differences. 50% of employers admit they won’t hire neurodivergent talent, despite evidence to show that people with disabilities such as autism actually excel at creative thinking. Is it any wonder that the creative industry has a large community of neurodiverse thinkers who work independently, outside of office environments? Many creative agencies are reluctant to make small accommodations that provide access to more diverse talent.
Though I faced barriers, I am still part of the 89% of white people constituting the creative industry. The horror of my privilege was revealed when a manager candidly told me I had gained my position because he had shredded any CVs with Asian sounding names. This was insulting on multiple levels – not only to the overlooked talent – but to my own. It removed the sense of pride I felt in earning a position through my skills – if it wasn’t for my whiteness, would I still have a place in the creative industry? It raises questions about how often this happens, even within companies that promote diversity. In another job scenario I was questioned on whether I would be having children. This was the start of hiding my family status for fear of stereotypes and negative bias. Ironically, my children are the reason for my freelance success, enabling me to be far more productive with a flexible schedule and earn a better living than any of my previous 9-5 jobs.
Being part of an underrepresented group can lead to a stigma that hinders progress. This stigma perpetuates the belief that those who are underrepresented should be continually 'grateful' for opportunities, often resulting in requests for unpaid work – ranging from companies seeking to profit, to subtle project creep and contemptuous reactions when fair compensation is sought. Given that women perform an overall average of 60% more unpaid work than men, it's unsurprising that women are often expected to undertake unpaid labour, including frequent requests to volunteer within the creative industry. It’s no wonder that many of those in positions of authority are blind to the expectations of unpaid work for those who may already carry the weight of caring responsibilities outside of the workplace.
There is an ignorance that prevails, where those in positions of influence make grand statements about making positive changes without realising the work involved. Responses to inequality are often a knee-jerk reaction, rooted in a desire to change things, yet this ignorance limits real change from happening. During a seminar aimed at encouraging more working-class pupils to pursue a career in the design and advertising industry, I was taken aback by some of the suggestions put forward. An advertising professional shared the sadness of a school student who believed they could never earn over £100k in the creative industry. "We need to be doing more to dispel this myth," she empathetically stated. I silently bit my tongue. I wondered which schools she was visiting, or whether she had any jobs going. Credit should be given, however, to those seeking to make any changes at all and use their privilege to challenge the industry. It should not be down to underrepresented, burned-out people to do ‘the work’. People will make mistakes. I will make mistakes. Change happens when we allow ourselves to try.
It's important to recognise that any participation in voluntary work is a personal choice – it should never be an expectation, particularly for those lacking the time, financial means, and resources to do so. There are many ways to be generous creatively and that is just one of them. Many influential creative voices emerged from non-privileged backgrounds – photographers such as Tish Murtha, who exposed the harsh realities of poverty through her lens, and poets like Audre Lorde, who confronted oppression with her powerful writing. These creatives did not bow down to a culture that expected them to behave. Instead, they brought about positive transformations by unapologetically embracing the value of their creative pursuits and fearlessly challenging conventions. Creativity serves as a distinctive human voice, one that remains genuine and refuses to succumb to a system dictating perpetual gratitude. If you wish to contribute, empower someone with a voice.
“Poetry is the way we help give name to the nameless so it can be thought... As they become known to and accepted by us, our feelings and the honest exploration of them become sanctuaries and spawning grounds for the most radical and daring ideas.”
The reality is that we also have to make a living. We are all part of a system that can induce anxiety as the month draws to a close, relying on those at the top to cover our bills. However, this narrative can easily exert control over the work we produce, ensuring it aligns with current trends or increases followers. While this approach may produce short-term growth, it fails to bring about lasting change and authentic work. Instead, it perpetuates the same algorithm until we're discarded, deemed easily replaceable, food for robots. As creative individuals, we have the ability to generate innovative ideas essential for progress. The choice is ours: adhere to a system predefined for us, forever categorising us as underdogs; or create and nurture our own, one that names us as its authors.
To some degree we all feed into the culture that creativity is for an elite group of people, despite our good intentions. Even the creations of William Morris, grounded in the notion that creative production should be collectively owned by the working class, predominantly adorn the walls of homes of the white middle-classes. The interior design industry offers a variety of luxury paints in every imaginable colour, decorative wallpapers, and insta-worthy furnishings. Unfortunately, we perpetuate a divide between the haves and have-nots. We mock those who buy inexpensive trinkets adorned with clichés like "live, laugh, love,” but in doing so, we contribute to a culture that suggests art is not accessible to everyone and that with money comes taste. We overlook the skilled craftspeople locally in favour of artists showcased in prestigious galleries, and it is the former that we expect to lower their prices despite their lack of wealth to do so. The narrative persists that one worked harder than the other, despite evidence to show that economic background has a far greater impact on career success. That is not to take away from the great artists that do deserve fame, but that there are many other factors at play than talent alone. Our core beliefs have a larger influence on which work we applaud than a so-called ‘good eye’ for spotting a beautiful piece of art. How many times has a piece of work gone up in your estimation because of the number of ‘likes’ it receives on social media?
I've become increasingly aware of how we inadvertently contribute to a culture of elitism within the creative industry and how subtle actions play a role in hindering people from entering it, undervaluing the work of certain groups and elevating the work of others. This industry is not a luxury; it serves as a channel for expressing ideas, and the more diverse the source, the more innovative we become.
Below is a list of ways we can challenge the elitism in the creative industry and break barriers for those struggling to enter it. I’ve not nailed these, far from it, but it’s a list to challenge and inspire change in all of us.
How to use creativity to break barriers
Share what you know. Normalise transparency in an industry that gate-keeps information.
When you add quotations of people to back up your ideas, think about who you’re quoting. Could you look a little harder and find people reflecting more diverse voices?
Regularly challenge your bias when you judge a piece of art or design – try to look at it without knowing anything about the creator. Are you surprised when the gender or ethnicity of the maker is revealed? Imagine it was created by someone different, would it alter your view of it?
Stop asking freelancers, especially underrepresented groups, to work for free. That includes unpaid work placements. Don’t ask them to give beyond what is required because you think they would get exposure from your opportunity. Any free labour is their choice, not a requirement. Only they can say how the work would benefit them if they chose to do it.
Stop working for free or throwing in extras, unless the work is for causes you care about. Be straight with friends or family who continually expect your free work by association. Working for free increases this expectation for others who may not have the same time or resources as you.
Stop sucking up to people who take advantage of you because of their status. You are helping them get away with it with others too.
Be practical about what help you need and ask for it. Perfectionism creates an ableist culture that prevents others from entering.
Stop offering unsolicited advice to those you think are less successful than you. You are making assumptions. Instead, share generously the things that have helped you (and be real about your privilege).
Where you can, shop with independent makers. Make a habit of planning in advance so you’re not always rushing to Amazon.
Don’t be afraid to show your voice in your work. That’s not for everyone, but if you have something to say, say it. Don’t take for granted the privilege of creative expression.
Stop obsessing over productivity. It feeds a narrative that we should constantly produce and not allow time for ideas or rest. This is not sustainable for most people (especially for those who are also carers or don't have domestic help).
Stop trying to be nice. It’s boring (sorry) (not sorry) (still not there yet).
Stop believing the hype from people who say they got here on their own. Got where? Why is it better? Most people aren’t transparent about the help they received to feel more successful.
Take time to notice creativity in the everyday – what people are making in their homes or overlooked at work. Encourage them. Learn crafts. Teach crafts. Normalise making things.
If you’re in a position to commission or hire artists and designers, be transparent about money. State your budget upfront. Stop expecting working class people to offer up low fees.
Don’t get angry with people who say no to you (unless it’s payment for your work!). Equally, don’t get angry with women who charge for their time or resources if you would not be angry with a man for doing the same thing.
When you can be generous to those that need it, expect nothing in return. Don’t complain if you don’t get a thank you, that’s not the reason you gave your time, right?
A little bit of good is better than nothing. Do small things to promote change – start with the ways you talk about others in the industry.
Make workplaces accessible. For example, enabling flexible working for those that need it is more likely to increase productivity, not decrease it.
Normalise creativity alongside ‘day jobs’ – stop the narrative that ‘full-time’ creatives have some form of higher power. It’s bullshit. Encourage creatives who also work a side job and respect their commitment to their craft. If you have a side job, you can still call yourself an artist.
Where you seek inspiration for your art, make an effort to look up work by the people that have been systematically overlooked.
Join the Arts Emergency network
Honour your craft. Rebel against the concept that creativity is a luxury. Instead, carve out creative time and explore. Encourage others to do the same. Creativity gives people a voice.
Did you resonate with this post? Feel free to write your comments below or share it. You can read more of my posts here.