Hey. How are you doing? I thought it was time we checked in.
If your experience growing up as an arts-lover was anything like mine, it probably went something like this. You were born. You figured out at a relatively young age that there was something you liked to do more than anything else. It might have been coloring, singing along to the radio, taking photos, playing pretend, or making up stories.
Everyone thought your hobby was adorable. When you proudly answered “An artist,” “A writer,” or “A musician,” to the constant “What do you want to be when you grow up?”, people *awwwed* and patted your head, amused. It was all too cute until you started applying to colleges and searching for fine arts programs to pursue your passion as a career. That’s when people started asking different questions like, “But what will you DO with that degree?” and “Okay, but how are you going to make money?”
You stuck with it! You were determined to study something you loved, desperate to avoid the monotony of a 9 to 5 office job. You found a school that felt right to you, you went there, and now you’re pursuing your dream. It’s half everything you’ve ever wanted, and half the hardest thing you’ve ever done.
You’re learning so much, about yourself, about the industry, about what’s going to make this career so fulfilling. You’re spending your days doing what you love. Your homework is stuff you would choose to do in your spare time!
But then, your homework is stuff you used to do in your spare time. Now, in your spare time, you feel burned out. You experience imposter syndrome. You’re busy, in a way that your non-fine-arts-major friends might not always understand or acknowledge. Your project grades are based on subjective criteria. How do you know if your work is neat enough? Thought-out enough? Creative enough? Authentic enough, but also out of your comfort zone? Are you even cut out for this, anyway? Was it worth it? Was everyone who said this was a pointless degree right?
If you’re like me, you might be at a crossroads. There are two ways to move forward. First, you can give up. This is a totally valid option. Hell, it might even be the better one. After all, choosing a different major might free up your time. It might be a more reliable guarantee of a steady income. It might renew your love for your craft, and you might feel more fulfilled when you can chase your passion on your own terms and your own time. If this is the path for you, I wish you nothing but the best. I know that you and your art are valid, special, and quality, and send me all the links to everything you make so I can ooh and ahh over all of it.
However, if you’re like me, you might come to the second possible conclusion. I’ve realized that making my art into my career really is the path for me. I can’t possibly see myself doing anything else, and as much as my future career scares me, it also excites me. I still feel like an imposter sometimes, but with every new lecture, project, and paper I know I’m building a foundation that will set me up for success and so much growth. I also know that no matter what, I have a passion for the arts, and that’s not something anyone can fake. I have to believe that that’s what will carry me through the late nights, crises of faith, and Thanksgivings of uncomfortable questions concerning my future.
Dear Fine Arts Major, if you’re in the same boat, we’re in this together. Not everyone will know what we know; the arts have been, are, and always will be invaluable and irreplaceable to humanity. When people feel lost, feel confused, or feel alone, they turn to the arts. These majors, these careers… not only will they ensure that we have a career that is exciting and fulfilling, but they will ensure that the arts continue to grow and evolve with new generations, new technology, and new ideas.
Dear Fine Arts Major, if you’re anything like me, your craft is everything to you, and that’s how I know it’s worth it.