News & Views
Yeah Boyeeee!
If you are anything like me, you’ve spent a fair amount of time this week thinking, “maybe I should do a sit-up once in a while,” while marveling at the superhuman Olympic running, reaching, lifting, parrying, kicking, spinning, jumping, and flipping.
It’s hard not to get emotional—especially during those biopic featurettes—when you get just a glimpse into the literal blood, literal sweat, and literal tears those competitors give and have given their entire lives to reach this stage. Even more astonishing, is how for most, there is almost no tangible payoff for all that sacrifice—no medals, no sneaker endorsements, no power, nor fame. The reward is the experience itself, driven by an irresistible passion for their practice, the feeling of giving everything, and participating in something much bigger than themselves.
We, then, are the beneficiaries of it all, delighting in the competition with nothing at stake.
Although there’s arguably less literal blood and sweat, I can’t help but notice some similarity to our local arts and culture scene. When you see a new mural along the TART trail, or a performance at the Opera House; when you discover music playing at the park or pick up some decor at a local gallery; if you’ve been inspired at the National Writers Series, or beamed with pride at your granddaughter's ballet recital; these experiences only happen for you because of the passionate sacrifice of those in our creative sector.
Take for example, the Leelanau Historical Society, where I visited last week. A few part-timers—some working multiple jobs—run the place, with the help of some loyal volunteers. This museum receives little fanfare, but it is more than just a delightful collection of local artifacts (although it certainly is that). It is a research center and catalog of historical data. Despite meager resources, these folks dedicate themselves to the work because the stories of this place are important.
Across the creative sector, it’s the same. Artists, performers, writers, and the administrators who orchestrate it all are exhausted, battered, and bruised by the end of a marathon summer—creating experiences for you because they believe our community is better for it, and it is.
By now you’ve almost certainly spotted an unexpected face at the Olympic events—none other than quintessential hype man, Flavor Flav.
For the Boomers and the Zoomers who may not know, Flav is a member of the seminal hip-hop group, Public Enemy. Known for bringing socially-conscious and revolutionary rap to the mainstream, the flamboyant Flavor Flav has always stood out from Chuck D and his otherwise very serious cohorts. When he showed up as the number one fan of the U.S. Women’s Water Polo team, it seemed just as delightfully out of place.
As the story goes, Flav was moved by the team captain’s social post in which she shared how dedicated her teammates are—some working multiple day jobs just to continue pursuit of their dreams. Most of us would never stop to consider the financial burden a trip to Paris must be for the average Olympian, not to mention the ongoing cost of training, equipment, travel, and thousands of calories required daily for them to compete in a way that allows us viewers to forget our differences for a moment of national unity, pride, and joy. But Flav saw the need. He not only stepped up to sponsor the team financially, he’s in the stands, donned in a uniform swim cap, shining a light on these women and their undeniable passion.
The creative community here in northern Michigan never stops hustling. The artists and musicians are working two jobs, the arts organizations are spread paper thin providing big offerings with tiny budgets, those committed to bringing art into public spaces are constantly navigating through bureaucracy. It’s exhausting, but it’s irresistible. They must do this work.
So, who is going to be our hype man?
Who is shouting YEAH BOYEEEE! when a sculpture is installed at the Art Park, or a child pulls the bow on his first violin, or dancers create a new movement? Who is willing to put on the matching cap and shine a bright light on the dedicated and important work of our arts and culture sector? Who is going to acknowledge the great value our creative community provides you personally, the vitality it brings to your day-to-day life, and invest in it accordingly?
Many people in our community donate to arts and culture. Some have given millions. I can tell you firsthand, the gratitude from the recipients for every single dollar is very real. But have you ever given in a way that hurts? When an Olympian gives extra—when you can see the real agony on their face—it makes the finish so much greater. When you write your next donation check, consider doing it in a way that you can feel. Think about the sacrifices made to create such a vibrant place to live, and put some skin in the game. Add an extra zero, just to see how it feels.
In doing so, you are not only a hype man for the arts, you earn your scars as a participant in something much bigger than yourself.
By Troy DeShano.
This article was originally published in the Traverse City Record Eagle, August 10, 2024.