The Studio Source.com

Image of megaphone sculpture by istolethetv

To speak out or not to speak out
Yesterday The Studio Source went dark as part of the protest against SOPA and PIPA anti-piracy legislation in the United States.

I almost didn’t participate.

 A couple of online friends asked if I’d be part of the strike. I’d already scanned an article on how to make the adjustments to my site, saw a bit of code, and moved on.

“I can’t do much but be in the cheering section,” I said, “but I’m watching developments. It will affect Canadians, too.”

It seemed like a reasonable response. But it wasn’t the truth.

When a reasonable response is anything but
This is what was running in the background:

“I’m working on one site that’s driving me crazy, I’m not going to muck around with code on one I can’t afford to break. Besides, I can’t vote on either bill.”

“I don’t have a huge readership. What difference would it make?”

“No one gives a damn what I think.”

Cue the sound of screeching tires.

The monster on your shoulder
The insecure knee-jerk happens from time to time; I’m sure it’s in the Universal Writer’s Handbook (if there was such a thing), right after the table of contents, and watermarked on every page.

Recognition came as quickly as the crashing white noise of self-doubt. The remedy was simple: shovel it up and spread it on the metaphorical rosebushes.

The deeper truth? That reaction had nothing to do with public political activism.



Denying your own voice

Creatives self-censor all the time. Not for the sake of good manners, but to fit into some imaginary idea of what’s acceptable when talking about their work-especially when they’re trying to sell it.

The aversion to being labelled a braggart or blowhard turns into dead-eyed blandness. The passion behind the creativity is squashed. Simple, strong words are whipped into a polysyllabic froth of half-understood jargon or meaningless catalogue-speak.

Sometimes you panic and don’t say anything at all. Emails aren’t sent, the phone remains untouched.

Sometimes denying your own voice goes way too far. The work—the song, the book, the painting—is never made.

Going public is a risk. So is remaining silent.

The middle ground is spongy. You poke your head up, but don’t say what you really mean. You settle for what you imagine people expect.

You try to make yourself small and say you’re being sensible.

Be bold, be smart
This is what I believe: that credit should be given where it’s due. That artists should be paid for their work. Piracy does damage, although if I’m being completely honest, I’m far less worried about the dented bottom lines of big movie studios than I am about independent artists.

I chose to join the SOPA strike because I think the legislation is poorly written. It doesn’t do enough to stop piracy and has the potential to do too much damage to legitimate (or just plain unwitting) users.

But mostly I spoke out because of the reek of censorship. That slope is too slippery. There are far too many artists, academics and journalists who have been intimidated, jailed, tortured or even murdered, to ignore the implications of SOPA and PIPA.

Some people won’t agree. Some won’t take the time to look past the headlines to try to understand the issue. Some will think any kind of activism has no place in business. And that’s okay.

Edit your message, don’t censor it
Whether I’m talking about marketing, mindset, method or missions in life or in business, I won’t self-censor. I will edit my message—weed out the words that don’t need to be there—to make it clearer and stronger.

I won’t call people names or beat anyone over the head with a virtual placard. There’s too much crazed shouting already, too many people basting their words in venom. I want to engage, not alienate, to spread ideas and help build revolutions.

The small amount of activism I do here is a conscious choice. I don’t take it lightly. Whether I talk about marketing or the mindset behind it, post a video to spark marketing ideas, or advocate change, my goal is always to enlighten and empower.

These are the things I believe in.

Do I get unnerved by any of it? Of course I do. Every time I hit Publish, there’s a small part of me that cringes. Will anyone read it? Will anyone care? Will what I say help someone move forward with his professional creative practice? Will it inspire someone to say yes to her talent and her potential?

There’s always a yes in there somewhere. Always.

The same is true for you. Say what you really want to say. Make your art.

About the author: Stacey Cornelius is a writer and professional butt-kicker. She helps empower artists, designers, writers and craftspeople to do their best work and show it to the world. The images she uses are through Flickr’s Creative Commons licensing. Want more marketing info? Sign up for her free, jargon-busting foundation marketing email class right here. Want to chat? Follow Stacey on Facebook.