R J Reynolds Arts High School Hall of Fame Acceptance Speech

This is a speech I gave on September 13, 2025 at the Reynolds Auditorium as part of my acceptance into the Arts Hall of Fame.

Inductees Eric Johnson and Ellen Denham on the stage of Reynolds Auditorium for a Q&A with students.

I am very proud to accept this honor.  I last stood on this stage, I believe, for commencement, and before that I think there was an assembly honoring graduating seniors, for which I sang “You’ll Never Walk Alone” from Carousel. I’m not going to sing today.  While singing is still an important part of my identity, it’s no longer my focus. Most of my work now is as an educator, an opera director, and a writer.  

I would like to make three points today: first, that we need to follow our artistic impulses without a preconceived idea of what success looks like.  Second, that the arts need all of us. And third, that you have to be the first and best audience for any artwork you create.

When I walked these halls as a student, I was one of the “weird kids.” It’s ok to be the weird kid. We all have different gifts, and sometimes the “weird kids” are the ones that turn out to be the artists. But in order to have the artists, we first have to have the arts education.

Is everyone going to have a professional career in the arts? Of course not. We also need educated audience members! And lots of folks go into careers that were not exactly what they majored in.  Sometimes the journey is more important than the destination. As a young child, I was always praised for being “creative,” so it’s no surprise I went into the arts.  But what if I didn’t? Sometimes I thought I’d give it up and do something else, but giving it up always made me miserable. The impulse to create is human. Let’s say you study music, or visual art, or dance, or any other type of creative or performing art, and this ends up being a side hustle or a hobby while you pursue another career. This is not a failure—this is a success. It means that your art was important enough to you to continue on your own terms. Maybe art on your own terms means you can express yourself in different ways than if you were creating as a commission for what someone else wanted. 

To me, the only failure is when we stifle our artistic and creative impulses. Perhaps someone has told us we are not good at it, or it is a waste of time because it won’t lead to a well-paying job. Nothing could be further from the truth.  I know plenty of folks making a living in the arts. I also know plenty of folks—doctors, archeologists, lawyers—for whom the arts are a part-time career or serious hobby.  Do what you love. Seriously. The other half of that statement is sometimes “…and the money will follow.” I don’t think there are any guarantees about money no matter what you choose to pursue. But you have to listen to that inner creative impulse or it will stay locked up inside and you will suffer for not letting it out, and society will suffer that you kept something beautiful locked up inside. 

Which brings me to my next point—that the arts really need all of us. I frequently tell students that without the arts, we are basically apes with better tools. As far as we know, we are the only species that creates art.  People have created art since prehistoric times. It’s part of what makes us human.  Even in the worst of times and situations, we make art. In fact, in times of distress, of uncertainty, of division, we need art even more. Olivier Messiaen composed “Quartet for the End of Time” while a prisoner of war in a concentration camp in Germany in 1940.  If you don’t know this work, look it up. Listen to a recording. Warning: it may change you. This is a good thing.

To think of art as a frill or fluff that maybe we indulge in only after we have taken care of literally everything else is to deny our very humanity.  At the very least, we should all be supporting art, whether we create it publicly or create it for our own enrichment or simply enjoy what others create.  Artists can create works of beauty that uplift and inspire us. Artists can also hold up a mirror to society so that we see the ugly side of ourselves that perhaps we would rather not see.  But we will miss the important lessons if we don’t support the artists—as audience members, as museum visitors, as board members, as participants in talks and workshops. I imagine that everyone here at some point read a novel or watched a film or a play or listened to a piece of music and came out changed. The arts are for all of us, and need all of us to participate. Budget for that Theatre ticket or museum visit.  Lift up and listen to underrepresented voices in the arts. Stand up for artists and arts organizations against being shuttered or censored or called irrelevant. Support your local arts magnet high school. Participate proudly in one of the most crucial parts of being a member of the human race.

And finally, especially for all the artists and aspiring artists.  Don’t get discouraged by criticism.  Sure—we could all improve and work on our craft to be better at what we do. But ultimately, you have to be your first and best audience. It will feel wrong if you create something inauthentic.  You have something special to give, and don’t let anyone talk you out of it.  Don’t dumb down your art or self-censor.  You can’t please everyone, and if someone doesn’t appreciate you, maybe they’re not your audience. I’m going to illustrate this last point with a poem I wrote earlier this month.

 [Actual poem redacted as it is under consideration for publication.]

Thank  you again so much for this honor, and go forth and make great art.