If art is entertaining, cathartic, or remedial on a good day, imagine its potency when the going gets tough.
Whether it be for the sake of hope, healing, or community, those enduring physical distress, limitations or pain need an outlet, a refuge and access to art.
I would like to establish a creative space where young adult survivors and fighters of significant health battles may benefit from opportunities to develop their artistic talent and collaborate on creative projects through events, classes and equipment at their disposal.
Immediately after celebrating my 25th birthday and my Law school graduation, I was diagnosed with a serious illness : it starts with the letter C but, believe it or not, it isn’t Covid.
Being French and American, I grew up in Manhattan, moved to Paris as a child, and went on to spend two decades dreaming of returning to New York. Thanks to a full scholarship to earn an LL.M. at Cardozo School of Law in 2016 and in the prime of life I hopped on a plane with my double Masters in French Law and American Law from Paris and flew back to my promised land. I believed this would be the first day of the rest of life.
I expected to have the luxury of learning for pleasure, all the while checking the utilitarian part of my education off of the list of so to speak legitimate career oriented requirements. I planned to throw my mortarboard in the air and bask in the green light authorizing me to serenely indulge in my artistic temperament. Music, film, poetry, visual arts — in parallel to Legal Philosophy, these were my passions, and every chance I got I composed songs, produced short films, wrote limericks and drew cartoons concurrently with my legal studies.
The rug was pulled from under my feet mere weeks after getting my diploma.
I could fantacize about developing my creative aspirations or collaborating on artistic ventures all I wanted, there is just so much one can do from their hospital bed. Let alone being chained to an IV in the aftermath of a bone marrow transplant.
When you have been exposed to a health scare, there is no going back. You are never out of the woods, even when you are. As I stand upright and pour myself a drink of the water I was once prohibited from drinking for months at a time, I am frequently asked by a stranger or novice “But you’re okay now, right?”, as if they needed to be reassured about their own mortality. It is true, I do look normal now. I do look fine. Relatively speaking, I am on top of world.
Notwithstanding the importance of sensitizing to and raising awareness about invisible disabilities or chronic diseases, there must be a refuge for the young adults who have survived or are fighting these Sword of Damocles imbued afflictions.
This sadly expanding young group of warriors is no different than their spared or uninformed young peers when it comes to envisioning their dream job. “What are you going to do when you grow up?” they were asked sometimes weeks before getting a life altering diagnosis.
Young adults
Young adults in particular, with their idealist and visionary disposition, would highly benefit from what artistic mediums can offer : a means to express themselves, a manner to cope, an opportunity to socialize through sharing, learning and collaborating.
And most emancipatory and therapeutic of all, the possibility to be understood.
Accessibility
The infrastructure must be convenient and accessible for persons with disabilities, and the schedule will be adapted to a population that may not have the means or energy to attend the evening schedules generally offered to young adults, as it is implied they all work or attend school in the daytime.
How can someone suffering from anaemia go to an improv class at 8 PM? How does someone undergoing chemotherapy have the stamina to shoot a short film late afternoon? Does intense physical therapy really leave any energy to sing in a choir?
