Networking & Building Trust For The Contemporary Community Textile Artist New Girl (Now In Derbyshire)
Introduction - Revealed: The Origins Of A Derbyshire Contemporary Community Textile Artist
Stepping into a new environment and building a network from scratch can be among the most daunting yet rewarding challenges. Many of us are conditioned to think that role success stems solely from hard work and academic achievement. Still, the reality often tells a different tale. In my journey as a community-engaged textile artist, I discovered that the valid key to professional growth lies not just within the walls of our educational institutions to gather knowledge and certificates but, more importantly, in the 'how' of how we use this information in the relationships we cultivate with others beyond those doors.
As someone who has always leaned towards empathy rather than boldness, I initially struggled with networking, whether in professional or community circles. I grappled with self-doubt and a deep-seated fear of rejection, which made reaching out to others feel like an overwhelming task. However, circumstances forced me into the networking arena, where I learned through necessity and experience how to forge meaningful connections in new geographies.
This blog post explains my current understanding of the importance of meeting people where they are, respecting their backgrounds, and nurturing relationships that transcend the confines of formal interactions. Join me as I share the lessons I learned about engaging diverse groups, the fragility of relationships, and the joy of fostering a sense of belonging in cultural spaces. It is a path that requires courage but ultimately leads to the enrichment of both our communities and ourselves.
Creating A Collaborative Art Network In A New Geographical Patch
'A community united by the ideals of compassion and creativity has incredible power. Art of all kinds – music, literature, traditional arts, visual arts – can lift a community.'
But how do you enter a community and encourage this incredible 'power?'
New network creation can be intimidating, confusing and require courage.
By instinct, I am not of a bold disposition; in fact, being an empath hurtles me to the other end of that scale (if there is a 'boldness continuum!') At university, scant attention was paid to considering, let alone doing, networking. I remember asking the lead tutor at the course interview how students found the transition from a degree to a textile job, and she admitted she wasn't sure. League tables were a distant concept at this time.
I believed that jobs were in the bag if you worked hard and achieved a super duper grade. Being the overachiever I am, I gained a course prize - indeed, wasn't industry success now a mere formality? I was puzzled by how those who had made slim efforts seemed to be awarded lucrative job roles whilst I went on to work hands-on in the community mental health sector, a role right at the bottom of the corporate ladder. Only in the last five or so years have I understood that the key to my fellow students' success was NETWORKING.
Once, I was head-first dunked into the networking arena out of necessity. There was a need to invite community groups to the opening of a Turner Prize, and it had to be done by tomorrow. At this point, I'd been a community engagement officer for around a week in a new city - I knew no one, and no one knew me. Cold-calling an invitation to one of the high churches of art prizes is challenging, but even more so to those who might never have ventured into a gallery, but the phones were hit hard that day. A friend of mine shared a strategy that she had used in situations such as this to make her feel braver - stand up and smile whilst talking. I did as I had been instructed, with mixed responses.
Throughout the community collaborative art role, I spent more and more time away from my desk, roaming around Coventry. I knew the underserved groups I wanted to connect with would not find me; I had to meet them where they were. I held and attended meetings and events in coffee shops, pubs, halls, carparks, parks, libraries, hospitals, schools, colleges, markets, and churches. Not all of these concerned art or culture, some were to just be in the same place and allow myself to be known and recognised.
I was genuinely mobile. My car reflected this as I'd set up a mobile art studio in a trolley in the boot.
When returning to my office base, I was sometimes greeted with, 'Hello stranger! Where have you been?' The thought often crossed my mind about whether I was doing this job of community artist wrong, which was why the comment was made. However, harking back to my psychotherapy training, I knew that relationship building was a tricky task that required commitment, energy, positivity, and repetition. I represented just another institution in my target audiences' minds; institutions had often let them down, taken things away and didn't care.
Another headache was representing the arts and culture in life and inviting others to join in. Schools have not always been the most encouraging in developing and recognising an artistic self. People felt they were no good at art, and galleries were not a space for them. My audience often fought to keep the metaphorical wolves from their doors; art was a trivial affair, with attention laser-focused on the bottom layer of Maslow's Needs. In short, I was not to be trusted and had no knowledge of the critical things in life, of which art was not one.
Whilst I wore this pseudo mantle of middle-class arty fartyness, the reality was I had come from a backstreet working-class northern family who had endured considerable and unique trauma, including being emergency housed. I could speak many languages of the social hierarchy.
My luck had been that I had the most fabulous art and textile teachers who persuaded me that culture was mine, too. However, at the time, I feared the big open doors of the places that held these treasures. I didn't know the words to speak, how to stand, which way to go around a room/exhibition, whether I was supposed to understand everything I saw, and if I didn't, did it mean I was stupid? Would people be looking at me as I dressed differently or couldn't make head nor tail of the jargon? These women's reassuring hands took me into these cultural spaces and showed me I had the right to take up space in them and feel the joy they could bring. I was fortunate, very fortunate.
My ambition as a community engagement officer was to pay this luck forward and be the friendly hand to offer creative opportunities to those who had yet to find their way into a cultural space, a joyful and challenging task.
Working Out The 'Doing' Of A Good Community-Engaged Collaborative Artist
Through trial and error and listening to my empathetic driven gut, I developed a loose, non scientifically proven framework:
Meet the audience where they are in the community, doing what they do, and at a time that suits them (plays hell with working regular hours.)
Be prepared to have several encounters before some degree of rapport is built (if at all.)
Understand the fragility of the relationship as you often compete with survival needs.
Be cheerful, bright, and encouraging but person-centred. Each person or community group needs their own pace and reassurances met.
Have a clear vision of the project, and if you haven't, how can you convince a community to join in? This is particularly important when working in the contemporary textile artist sphere.
Listen - a lot
Dip from a similar language pot (without being patronising.) Be careful of collaborative art jargon; if necessary, then thoroughly demystify.
Be prepared to be human and share of yourself and your own experiences.
If you say you'll do something, then do it - if you can't, be honest and explain (no false promises.)
Aim high - don't accept a poor quality goal - go for professionalism to encourage pride.
Build a point of joy/pride/celebration/next step in the plan.
Recognise your own energetic needs and try not to give too much (I have been pants at this occasionally, and it remains a work in progress.)
Know there's a high chance you might fail, and be honest when these occur - introspection and probing are key.
I have leant heavily on my psychotherapy education in building rapport and art education to create community textile project works. These have been invaluable. As was my previous work in the community alongside those with complex needs; here I learned about the importance of boundaries and energy conservation.
Being Comfortable With A Model Of 'Doing' Collaborative Co-curation Art Projects
During my adventures of being a contemporary community textile artist in Derbyshire or beyond, I have yet to find a method that I am comfortable with that explains the audience's needs and barriers and how I tried to build trust by addressing these concepts, so I've made one.
I have drawn from the works of Marie-Claire Ross and her theories concerning trust building in the workplace. I like the humanity of her approach. This diagram represents what I believe a typical community audience questions, needs and feels in my experience translating Ross' ideology from corporation to society realms:
I wanted to see how far my efforts went towards meeting a community's demands. In this second diagram, I have overlaid my loose framework onto Ross' drawn ideology to demonstrate how my gut-derived methods help to encourage trust by addressing the questions and concerns of the audience:
My instinctive methodology seems to meet the broad themes. However, I don't have any empirical evidence to conclusively demonstrate I'm on to something. I have yet to really drill down into my ideology to see where the gaps are or how to improve it. The objective was simply to see if they did. A word of caution: no matter how robust a model could be, it can still fail because we are working with humans. We need to be brave and look at the successes or failures of any project to learn and improve.
Conclusion - The Future Of A Contemporary Community Textile Artist To Serve Derbyshire
Reflecting on my journey, I've come to appreciate that building a network in a new environment is not merely about professional advantages; it's about fostering genuine connections that can uplift communities and create inclusive spaces.
My experiences taught me that approach, repetition, empathy and understanding are as critical as hard work and high grades. The path was and probably remains to be, often challenging and filled with moments of self-doubt and vulnerability. Yet, each interaction has enriched my understanding, revealing the depth and diversity of the human experience. I hope it continues in this vein.
The initial fear of rejection transformed into recognising that each conversation could lead to collaboration and growth. By stepping outside traditional cultural spaces and meeting people within their own contexts, I could honour their stories and perspectives, which deepened our connections. I learned that the arts and culture can be powerful tools for engagement, breaking down barriers and creating a shared sense of belonging.
Ultimately, this journey taught me that success is not a solitary achievement but a collective effort grounded in relationships. As I have navigated Coventry and now find myself in Derbyshire and the East Midlands, I remain committed to nurturing new connections, fostering community ties, and advocating for those whose voices are often marginalised. In doing so, I contribute to my professional growth and the enrichment of the communities I am privileged to serve and live in. The courage to engage, listen, and connect can transform lives—both our own and those around us—and that, I've learned, is the true essence of a contemporary community textile artist in Derbyshire, Coventry or the world..
