On a chilly January afternoon, I sat in a high school library, along with 40 students, listening to Suzanne Vega talk about music. Listening to any artist speak about their work is interesting at the very least and more often than not quite compelling. This was not just any artist.
Suzanne Vega is widely regarded as one of the great songwriters of her generation. She is a masterful storyteller who rewrote the book on what female singer-songwriters can say and do, paving the way for artists like Sarah McLachlan, Tracy Chapman, and the entire Lilith Fair revolution.
Suzanne performed as part of the Kent Arts Commission’s Spotlight Series. In addition to her public concert, she led a school workshop. I incorporate educational activities with professional touring artists as often as I can. Interacting with an artist in an intimate setting, hearing them discuss their vision and process, offers depth of experience that a traditional concert performance cannot. Getting that kind of glimpse into the creative process is unique and powerful—it ignites a passion for and connection with art unlike anything else.
When we have communities that are engaged with art, where art is an integral part of life and a defining characteristic of place, our communities are better for it. They are better economically, socially, and because individuals’ lives are enriched.
It was thrilling to watch Suzanne Vega—a Grammy Award winner, an iconic voice in American song—standing in a humble school library speaking to students with an obvious conviction that they each have the potential to achieve as much as she has.
She spoke about her creative process and gave them tips on finding their artistic voices. She read poetry, told stories, and discussed the music business.
It is important to note that this activity was optional and students chose to sign up and stay after school to participate. It was the Friday after semester finals and I was worried no one would show up. Not only did students show up, they were thoroughly engaged.
One boy who sat in the front row with his guitar was the first to raise his hand and ask a startlingly insightful question. Teachers later told me that the young man rarely speaks in class.
The group was diverse, including African American, Latino, Asian, and Caucasian students. 70 percent of the school’s student population receives free or reduced lunches, so it is safe to assume that many of the participants were from lower-income families.
These are the times I truly love my job. Unfortunately, it doesn’t always work out so well. I’ve had more than a few outreach opportunities go unused because I couldn’t find anyone to host them. Between classes, administrative demands, trainings, and tests, educators have a lot going on; it’s difficult to make time for extra activities.
Another part of the problem is the lack of a neat and tidy way to get the word out.
Kent’s district is big—40 schools and 25,000+ students, big. I’ve tried starting with the district arts coordinator; going through principals; contacting music, art, and drama teachers. None of these strategies work as a rule.
The only approach I’ve found to be effective is labor intensive—making repeated phone calls and emails to varying people until I happen upon the right one—a principal, a teacher, even a parent.
Two schools passed on the Vega opportunity before I connected with an energetic teacher at Kent-Meridian High School. He got excited and wasn’t daunted by extra work. He made a video and played it in the cafeteria during lunch. He talked it up and, as a result, 40 kids had a wonderful experience.
He wrote me a note the next week saying, “The world needs more artists who make themselves accessible.” I agree.
The world also needs more teachers who are willing to go the extra mile to connect artists to students, as well as more presenters, agents, and managers who are willing to do whatever it takes to make it happen.
It required the work of many people to make Suzanne’s workshop happen. Some people might look at the effort involved for the number of kids served and question whether it’s worth it. They would be underestimating the depth of the impact on those 40 kids.
My high school had an annual career day: lawyers, doctors, accountants, and insurance agents filled the classrooms. None of them moved me.
One year, somebody different showed up—a screenwriter named Lorraine Williams. She and her husband, Oscar-winning editor, director, and producer Elmo Williams, had just retired to my tiny Oregon town.
Lorraine was mesmerizing. I listened to her all afternoon, transfixed by how exciting she was, speaking passionately about the movie industry and writing. She was an artist, talking about art, and it inspired me.
Lorraine Williams passed away in 2004. Even though she didn’t know me—I was just a kid, at a desk, listening to her speak—I think of her often. I’m thankful that somebody at my school thought it was important enough to give her time and space to share with us.
I have no idea what we were studying or what we would have been doing that day, but I’ll never forget that afternoon with an artist. I hope the students at Kent-Meridian High School feel the same way about Suzanne Vega 20-some years from now.
