When the world is burning is art a waste of time R. Alan Brooks

Transcriber:

I grew up in Atlanta, Georgia,
and I didn’t know very many white people,

but I was raised
in a Southern Black church

that was under the shadow
of white supremacy

and run by Black people

who in many ways were taught
to hate themselves.

The generation that raised me
was still familiar with lynchings.

So in order to not be murdered by racists,

some of the Black people
in the generation before me

learned to make themselves smaller.

We couldn’t be too loud,

too smart, too attractive, too bold.

On some level, they felt

like anything that we did
that made us stand out

might get us murdered.

In the midst of that, I emerged,

this straight-A student who rapped,

loved “Weird Al” Yankovic

and read comic books.

So much for not standing out.

So the grownups around me
regularly discouraged my artistry.

To them, comic books
were the pursuit of a kid

who didn’t really understand the world.

They told me that art was silly

and I was in for some hard lessons
about the real world.

Back then, I only had one other friend
who was into comic books

and he went to a different school.

So when I was around 11,

he and I went to our
very first comic book convention.

They were so unused
to seeing Black kids there,

that one grown white man
mistook me for security

and showed me his convention badge
in order to get in.

Remember, I was 11.

But me and my friend
loved these conventions.

Finally, we had other people to talk to
about the important questions,

like, why does the Hulk
always wear purple pants?

About a year or so later
with every free moment that we had

me and that same friend
were actively drawing comic books.

His father took notice of this
and he sat us down in the living room.

He loved us both, and he decided
it was time to set us straight.

He said, “It’s great that you two
love these comic books,

but you need to pick a serious profession,

something that’s going to take care
of you and your families.

And you’re not going to be able
to do that with comic books.”

My friend’s father
wasn’t trying to hurt us.

He was trying to prepare us for the world

and underneath that was this fear
that was shared by my own parents.

That being a Black artist
would make me stand out

and that I might be murdered by racists.

And it’s not like that was a far jump.

My parents were born
in the early 50s.

In 1955, a white woman accused
a 14-year-old boy of whistling at her.

He was Black

and two grown white men
brutally murdered him

just for her accusation.

These men never went to prison.

The boy’s name was Emmett Till.

So my parents grew up in a time

where just the accusation
of whistling at a white woman

could get a Black boy brutally murdered.

So why wouldn’t they be concerned about me
standing out as some bohemian artsy dude?

So as a Black artist,
I’ve had to ask myself:

when the world seems like it’s burning,
is art really worth it?

I grew up and I worked serious jobs
and did art on the side.

Let me tell you about
the most serious job that I ever worked.

I ran an insurance agency

and I know everything
that you’ve learned about me so far

screams insurance agent.

Predictably, I hated that job.

So after a few years and against
all the wise advice I heard in my life,

I decided to close my insurance agency
and try my hand at writing graphic novels.

I wanted to address the social issues
that I was passionate about.

Police brutality, sexism, racism,
that kind of thing.

But to make it clear,

I was leaving the serious insurance job

in order to pursue writing comic books.

You know, art,

which is silly,

especially in the face of a world
that seemed dedicated to murdering me.

This was 2016

and there was this reality show host
running for president.

You guys probably never heard of him,

but there were all these
disturbing things arising in the world.

Nazis were feeling bolder.

People were feeling less shame
about their racism,

hate crimes arising.

In response,

my Black and Brown friends
organize public protest and boycotts.

A lot of my liberal white friends were
marching on the Capitol every weekend.

And I wanted to write a comic book.

Was I being silly?

Vain?

I never made a living off of art before

and now I just quit my job

when it seemed like the world
was falling apart.

Art is silly, right?

I struggled with this for a while.

So I took a month to travel
in the UK for the first time.

I was nervous about this trip
because I was traveling alone.

And I didn’t know
how people in these countries

felt about Black people,

but I went to Berlin, Prague, Budapest,

and this tiny British town
called Melksham.

In Berlin, I sat down with the owner

of the biggest
comic book store chain there.

And we talked about how as a kid,
his favorite hero was Captain America,

but certain issues of that comic book
he never got to read as a kid

because Captain America
was fighting Nazis in those books.

And nothing with Nazis
was allowed in Germany,

even if they were getting beat up.

So let’s think about that for a moment.

In Germany,

Nazis were banished from everything

while here in the States,

we’ve erected statues to Confederates
who betrayed our country.

Anyway, I thought about this man,

this comic book fan
who grew up in Germany,

but fell in love with the story
of an American icon.

And I realized a well-written
comic book or graphic novel

could reach someone
all the way across the world.

And I thought about revolution,

how whenever society needs to change,

that change is inspired
at least in part by the artist.

I thought about how dictators and despots
regularly murder and discredit artists.

Hitler’s people came up with a term
specifically to discredit artists:

degenerate art.

They were burning books and paintings.

But why,

why were the leaders of the Nazi party

dedicating their attention
to destroying art?

If art really has no power,

if it’s really a silly waste of time,

then why are dictators afraid of it?

Why were Nazis
burning books and paintings?

Why was McCarthy so dedicated
to blacklisting artists in the 1950s?

Why was Stalin’s government so focused
on censoring artists in Russia?

Because art scares dictators.

Because they understood something

that I’ve been struggling
to understand my entire life.

Art is powerful. Art is important.

Art can change hearts and minds
all the way across the world.

In 1894, Russian author, Leo Tolstoy
wrote “The Kingdom of God Is Within You”.

It’s a book that advocates
for nonviolence.

In the 1920s, Mahatma Gandhi
listed Tolstoy’s book

as one of the three
most important influences in his life.

So Tolstoy inspired Gandhi.

And you know who Gandhi inspired?

Dr. Martin Luther King, Jr.

So how would the civil rights movement
in America have changed

if Tolstoy had never written his book?

Would I even be here talking to you now?

Tolstoy’s book made real changes
in the world by inspiring people.

During the civil rights struggle,

Black people would stand hand in hand

as police and dogs attacked us

and we’d sing gospel songs.

Those songs,

that art inspired these people

and it helped them make it through.

Activism is how we change the world.

And there are different ways
to engage in activism.

And for me, that way is art.

So I came back to the States

and I wrote about all those issues
that I mentioned before:

the police brutality,
the sexism, the racism.

Honestly, I didn’t know how the world
was going to receive it from me.

I just knew that I was tired
of giving my life

to things that I didn’t care about.

So I hired a comic book artist,

I ran a Kickstarter campaign

and my graphic novel
became “The Burning Metronome.”

It’s a supernatural murder mystery
about otherworldly creatures

who absorb magical power
from human cruelty.

They watch human beings

and they give us the chance to choose
between compassion and cruelty.

In one of the stories a police officer
has an opportunity to go back

and undo a time when he was
unnecessarily violent to someone.

So what happened as a result
of me writing this book?

I was interviewed on TV news, newspapers.

The university invited me to teach writing
in their master’s program.

I’m a professor now.

But more importantly,

I was able to reach into my heart,

pull out the truest parts of my soul

and see it have a positive impact
on other people’s lives.

I was signing books
in this comic book store

and this man made small talk
with me for about 20 minutes.

Eventually he said that my book
made him think about how he does his job.

So of course I asked,
what do you do for a living?

He was a police officer.

So my book made a police officer
think about how he does his job.

That never happened when I sold insurance.

I write comic books
and graphic novels for a living.

Now I’m a full-time artist.

If I hadn’t written that book,

none of you would be listening
to me right now.

And listen, my parents
weren’t wrong to warn me

about the lethal tendencies
of this country.

Just last year,

a white supremacist sent me death threats

over a book that I hadn’t
even finished writing yet.

But obviously the only reason
he was threatened

is because he recognized the power of art

to change hearts and minds
all the way across the world.

So I say to you now,

if there’s any art you want to create,

if there’s something in your heart,
if you have something to say,

we need you now.

Your art can be activism.

It can inspire people
and change the world.

If you’re afraid, that’s OK.

Just don’t let it stop you.

Go make art and scare a dictator.

Is art worth it?

Hell yeah.

Thank you.