Only artists allowed in my house

Yes

Writers

Dancers

Producers

Storytellers

Truth tellers

I want them all

When I become a parent?

Best believe

I am raising a tribe

of loud, expressive, artistic little humans

Only artists allowed in my house

We are not  prepping for board meetings

We are not dreaming rockets to Mars

We are writing monologues

We are throwing it down in dance battles

We are performing songs at the dinner table

We are painting how we feel

not just what we see

I am raising a tribe of expressive

free thinking

soul speaking

artistic little humans

Only artists allowed in my house

We are not talking about the next Elon Musk

We are talking about the next Chimamanda Ngozi Adichie

We are talking art

We are talking intention

Only artists allowed in my house

Because I had to bow to reality

Because money talks

And bills?

Bills are loud

I’ll be the sacrifice

so you can be the song

I’ll be the silence

so you can be the sound

I’ll teach you imagination

My God given weapon

That feeling is strength

That creation is holy

That a creator lives

in music, in poem

in paint, in beats

in passion performed

I’ll teach you

In this house

Art is not a hobby

Art is not optional

Art is breath

Art saves

Art is life

And when people ask

“What do your kids want to be when they grow up?”

I’ll smile

I’ll say

They’re going to be artists

And in this house?

That’s the highest calling there is

Because Only artists allowed in my house