The Hard Truths of Being a Creative Student: Heaven and Hell Intertwined

By Kerryann White.

There’s a particular question that every creative or arts student knows far too well. It’s the big one we all aim to avoid when attending family gatherings, when being introduced to new people or even within our own late-night overthinking sessions:

“So… what jobs can you get with that degree?”

No matter how politely, how well-intentioned this question appears to be, it will never fail to give the receiver a drop in the stomach and an incredible sense of impending doom. It will forever carry the implication that to study literature, philosophy, music, fine art, or film is without meaning or in some way a risk to your future. STEM students, in my experience, have never quite received the same reaction, rarely getting investigated on what they will do with their life in the same sense. But for an English student? A film student? Suddenly the future is a non-existent, blank canvas that everyone around you expects to paint in front of their face, never being truly granted that space to figure things out on your own time.

The Irony Behind the Interrogation

Growing up, a generous portion of the school syllabus was saturated with creative pursuits, heavily influencing all students to find the meaning and value in the imagination and inventiveness of generations that have come before us. We were raised on Shakespeare and Mozart, learning from an incredibly young age that art can reflect who you are and the history of the previous world. Years and years spent analysing metaphors, painting self-portraits, and playing the recorder in front of bored witnesses, following the required steps to please the education system that told us that individuality and creativity is a skill worth cultivating.

Yet, as soon as it was time to choose A-levels and start filling out UCAS forms, the tone shifted and the same creativity that was praised tremendously suddenly becomes something to put on the backburner. The subjects that once taught us artistic expression and emotional insight became rebranded as indulgent and unprofitable pursuits, reflecting an entirely impractical path to embark on. We were taught to admire the work of the creative greats but judged and deemed reckless if we wanted to continue down those lines of study.

A weird atmosphere remains in the air when you grow up being told to follow your passions, only to then hear that those passions should stay as hobbies.

Why would you dare to take yourself seriously as an artist? How could you expect to live off that?

A Reality Check from Belfast and Crippling Imposter Syndrome

This city is buzzing with creativity, with culture and history seeping from the walls of every street, may that be in the form of painted murals, great music, fashion, indie cinemas, and theatres; it is alive and well. Unfortunately, the job market can feel like a maze with no guarantee that there is an exit at all.

Of course, creative opportunities do exist here, but they often take the shape of unpaid internships, temporary contracts or jobs that expect you to be a writer, marketing assistant, social media manager, videographer and barista all at once for £19k a year (not to mention the impossible experience they demand).

We compete in a small space, trying desperately to break into industries that are still growing and still underfunded. It becomes slightly hard not to question whether you are good enough for this or whether there will be space for you here, cueing the imposter syndrome of it all.

Nobody does warn you how much time you can spend doubting yourself and the field you’ve chosen. You can create something and fifteen minutes later despise it. This work is personal and vulnerable, putting a piece of your internal self out on display for the world to see, only to be shot down by a disappointing grade or rejection email. But, despite the doubt and uncertainty, we all keep going because we love it, and that is an incredible strength.

Why Should We Keep Choosing This?

When a creative student first walks into those lecture theatres, they carry a dream that acts as a sort of rebellion against the idea that you shouldn’t choose this. That choice to trust your talent in these industries and believe in the significance of imagination and creation is often intimidating, unpredictable and quite scary but also so powerful.

Art is a human language that we all must keep speaking. So please, keep experimenting, keep expressing yourself and keep being vulnerable.

A society stripped of its in artistic expression is one not worth living in.