Eclosion: Valuing yourself as an Artist (Offering 11.5)
What it really means to claim your worth.
A backyard lunch. A hard question from Shon. Two decades of work coming into focus—and what it means to be paid for it.
(If you’re new to Eclosion: An Artist’s Path to Power and Peace, start at the beginning. Or visit my Memoir Hub for a full table of contents with links.)
Valuing yourself as an Artist
“When we come into our calling,
we become bells, ringing to everyone else.
Come, come into your calling.”
Laurence Cole
My family loves being outside. One of our summertime rituals is to eat our meals at the bar on the back porch. From our seats, we can look out at the garden and orchard, the playset and swallow nesting boxes that Seren and I built a few years earlier. We let our ducks free-range, and they often join us while we eat, foraging in the grass nearby.
On this picturesque summer day, Shon, Seren and I were having a casual, sun-soaked lunch. Out of the blue, Shon asked me, “Carrie, if I were to just go poof one day, what would you do? Would you sell the house? Would you get a regular job?” I took a deep breath, thinking Really? We’re having this conversation now? While eating lunch with our five-year-old?
But this was where we were. We were having conversations about life and death all the time. And so I took another deep breath and thought about it before responding. “Well, I don’t know what I would do about the house. It would be a lot to maintain on my own. As for getting a regular job, the time and resources that I am putting into growing my business right now is precisely so that I can fully support our family.”
Another piece of the puzzle slipped into place, releasing some of the pressure I felt. I suddenly understood, at an intrinsic level, the responsibility I have to my family to be present and fully show up for my work. The work I do as an artist, a change maker, a leader—I do for my child and for myself. I remembered why I do this work: to show Seren, or anyone who needs to see it—including myself—what it looks like to follow my bliss and stand up for what I believe in at the same time. I am dedicated to creating a better world for my child, a world where all children have the opportunity to thrive. I knew this. But up until that moment, I couldn’t fully grasp the responsibility that I held for my family.
Even though I had been getting paid as an artist for a long time—even though I was already seen, and saw myself, as an expert in collaborative art—I hadn’t fully embraced my own worth. It was as if I was still waiting for external validation. I realized something fundamental in that moment: This work requires me to stand firmly in my own worth. Without a foundation of self-worth, I can’t turn my offerings into a sustainable business that can support my family, and I cannot continue this important work.
While this shift felt like it happened in an instant, it was the result of many years of work, of practice, of undoing old stories and building of skills and confidence.
Shon’s cancer diagnosis had already ignited a deeper drive in me to grow my business. Just a few months after his diagnosis, I found and hired an incredible business coach. I was ready to level up and was tired of pushing through on my own. I needed someone to help me focus on what truly mattered, to hold me accountable, and to offer their expertise so I could grow faster and more effectively than I could on my own.
Specifically, I was seeking support in shaping my newest offering, the Art in Action Mentorship Program. My coach not only helped me clarify my vision and refine my offer, she helped me see myself more clearly—as a powerful Artist with a meaningful and valuable message to share. I am not just someone who makes things. Now, I understand that I am a capital ‘A’ Artist, a Change Maker—someone whose work moves people. As an Artist and Change Maker, I am shaping the world around me.
One assignment my coach gave me, about valuing myself as an Artist and a Leader, was especially useful in helping me see this. In this exercise, she asked me to write down all the things that I did over the years that had gotten me to where I was in my practice. That included everything: learning to use tools as a carpenter, my college education, the thousands of hours spent making art and facilitating community projects, the time I spent as a naturalist and learning about the environment, about social justice and leadership, the events I organized, the books I read, the podcasts I listened to, even the time I spent away from my family. Through this exercise I realized that I had already spent more than two decades building my knowledge and skills as I worked towards that place, that moment, where I could more fully step into my role as Artist.
As I added my family responsibility to that picture, it suddenly became imperative that I show up for my work with a new level of owning my power. It became clear to me that—whether I am leading a collaborative Art in Action Project for a city or organization, working with a school, or coaching other artists and change makers to bring their visions to reality—I need to get paid for what my time is worth. If I don’t, I can’t support my family, and I can’t do this work.
Asking for money is hard. I have all kinds of reasons why I shouldn’t charge what I am worth—ingrained stories about what kind of person has money and what kind doesn’t. For so long, I did not want to be the kind that does. Capitalism is killing our planet, and I often felt I was selling out to the system when I asked for money. What I’ve learned is that the more money I make from those who can afford it, the more I can give back to others who can’t.
A year and a half earlier, while painting in my studio, I’d received a message: I no longer get to be small. Finally, facing the reality of potentially supporting my family alone, I began to understand. Getting small meant hiding my worth, undercharging for my work, playing it safe. I couldn’t do that anymore.
Charging what I’m worth became a practice for respecting the value of my work. It isn’t easy, but it means I can keep showing up—for myself, for my family, for the work.
Where in your life are you still waiting for permission to claim your full worth?