Our need for arts stems from our basic human need to feed the spirit. It is no accident that as soon as our ancestors climbed down from the trees, tamed fire and started sitting around campfires in caves, art began to blossom on the walls around them.

Language also started our deep need to tell the stories of the day. After our ancestors had successfully killed a deer or a woolly mammoth, it was not enough just to eat the spoils. We wanted to hear how the deer were stalked, how brave our hunters were, where they found the deer. All of the world’s literature, religion and art sprang from the stories told around the campfires of our ancestors.

After a short period, art became as important as actual deeds. Telling and re-telling our stories became a way to develop community, to bind clans together, and to pass our collective memory—its lessons and its beauty-- down to our children and grandchildren.

Over time, the work—the joy really—of telling our daily stories and re-acting and re-creating our lives became a specialized task. And as we became even more “civilized” art often became an elitist exercise, something only the wealthy and the privileged could enjoy.

Fortunately for us, one of the great benefits of living in the US in the 21st Century is that we have come full circle. Like our cave-dwelling ancestors, we now can sit around the campfires of arts and culture and hear and see our stories told and retold to us by those touched by the gods of artistic talent. It is not only a privilege; it is a basic human need.

I’ve personally witnessed the transformative nature of arts.

I recall a number of years ago that José Rodríguez, the founder and director of La Compañía de Teatro de Nuevo Mexico, wrote a modern retelling of Christ’s life, only in his retelling, Christ was a Mexican activist fleeing authorities who wanted him killed for trying to help landless peasants in northern Mexico. It was a powerful re-telling of the Christian mythos, with great acting and wonderful music.

I served on the board of the teatro and attended many of the shows. One night in particular, I sat behind a working class Mexicano, who was there with his family and who had come directly from work, still dressed in his work boots and hard hat.

I saw the entire show through his reactions. He was enthralled, captivated, and alive. I could almost see the glow of his humanity emerge as he connected with what was happening on stage.

As leaders in our community, we need to learn that the arts are as critical to the long-term health of our community and its peoples as are jobs and education and infrastructure. We have to believe and put into practice a community ethic that values an artist as much as a realtor; that honors a musician as much as a banker.

We are beings who exist in both a physical and spiritual plane. Both our bodies and our spirits need constant nurturing if we are to remain healthy and productive persons. Here at 516 Arts, we are engaged in feeding the spirit, of empowering people to build better lives. And we do it by taking art well beyond the walls of the gallery.

As you serve in positions of influence, and as you make decisions that will impact our community, never forget those ancestors we all have in common.  Sitting around the early campfires, they taught us how critical it is to our collective survival to feed both the body and the spirit.