Typically when I tell people that I work at an organization called ArtsNow, one of the first questions they ask me is, “So, are you an artist?” The short answer is no, I am not an artist– my job is to support artists and the arts ecosystem as a whole. But the longer answer is, my journey to becoming an arts administrator did force me to briefly practice studio art– against my will.

A little backstory: I majored in Art History at Kent State, where it is required that all art history majors take a minimum of two studio classes in order to graduate. I could memorize hundreds of art pieces for my exams, write long papers, and participate in Socratic seminars, offering comments using flowery words like “allegory,” “abstraction,” and “oeuvre.” But I avoided taking my studio classes until late in my college experience because I was intimidated. I knew they would force me into unfamiliar territory, and I wanted to stay where I was comfortable.

I remember receiving my spring semester class schedule and being taken aback by the nearly three-hour time block allocated to my Intro to Jewelry and Metals course, twice a week. I thought, “With all that time, I’ll definitely be able to finish all my projects during class. I’ll never have to be in the studio late at night!” Time would tell just how wrong I was when I, a Type A student who had never pulled an all-nighter studying before, found myself struggling to rivet together two pieces of metal into the wee hours of the night for a project due the next morning. For hours, I struggled to master the new skill and relied heavily on the kindness of my classmates and even strangers in the studio who helped me literally piece together the worst set of riveting samples the Kent State University School of Art had ever seen.

Photos by The Green Photograph

The following fall, I found myself in Ceramics I and spent my entire semester covered in clay dust. (Literally the entire time. That stuff gets everywhere. I think it is still embedded in my favorite yellow backpack.) For one particular project, we were tasked with hand-building a Japanese neolithic-style historical pot. This historical pot drove me to tears of frustration as I abandoned my unwieldy project on the work table and escaped to the basement bathroom– yes, the most depressing bathroom in the entire building– where I cursed my decision to pursue an art history degree. Later in the semester, a classmate in another course made a comment that ceramics must be fun and an “easy A.” Did I mention I was a straight-A student? Guess what I got in ceramics? A B plus! And I still have yet to live it down.

These studio class requirements forced me to learn what professional artists go through in order to hone their skills and ultimately create excellent work. I tell you these stories not to raise alarm bells that I secretly hate doing all things creative, but instead to stress that while arts can be fun, relaxing, and therapeutic, they can also be very hard work. Our ArtsForward grantees demonstrate this dedication and hard work every day, and they do so because they care that our community has access to not just a few, but a wide variety of vibrant arts and culture experiences.

As an arts administrator– not a practicing artist, as we have established– I am inspired every day by our hardworking, intelligent artist community in Summit County. To constantly master new skills and techniques, push their work in new directions, and then open it up to the world for critique, is extremely courageous.

I hope the stories of ArtsForward grant recipients inspire you as much as they inspire me to fiercely advocate for resources for the arts and culture sector. In just two years, the ArtsForward grant program has created new jobs, friendships, and lasting impact in Summit County. With your support, we can continue to fund dynamic and compelling projects in 2025.