COMMUNITY
Making Art, Changing Lives
Pairing creativity with care, youth arts organizations across the country are helping young artists and communities thrive.
By Valerie Howes | Illustration by Sunny Eckerle
When young people choreograph a dance, paint a neighbourhood mural or record a song they wrote themselves, they’re doing more than making art. They’re building skills, relationships and confidence that extend well beyond the studio or stage.
Across cities, small towns and remote communities in Canada, grassroots youth arts organizations create welcoming spaces where young people can explore their talents and discover their voices. For some, these programs spark creative careers; for others, they offer something just as vital: a sense of belonging.
By removing financial, geographic and social barriers, organizers make participation possible for youth who might otherwise be left out. And through mentorship and other supports, their initiatives do more than nurture artistic talent — they connect young people with trusted adults who understand their realities and can help them navigate life’s challenges. Youth arts organizations show that investing in creativity makes individuals and communities stronger.
Northern Voices, Centre Stage
After delivering a five-week music program in Stanley Mission, Saskatchewan, in 2019, singer-songwriter Eliza Doyle recalls community members saying, “Don’t just be another one-off. Everyone comes in with a song and dance, and then they leave — it’s damaging.”
This inspired her to team up with visual artist Holly Rae Yuzicapi to create the Community Arts Mentorship Program to break the cycle of short-term arts initiatives that arrive in remote communities and disappear just as quickly.
Today, this Saskatchewan nonprofit delivers programming across rural, northern and Indigenous communities in schools, shelters and a youth incarceration centre. “We really find the kids who are struggling with mental health are drawn to the arts,” Doyle says. “They start seeing a way to communicate to the world, not just with words.”
The organization hires local artists and musicians and trains them to be trauma-informed and culturally sensitive instructors. “You don’t have to always bring outsiders in. You can strengthen the community to develop programming and pass it on to others through mentorship,” says Doyle.
Core funding comes from the Gord Downie & Chanie Wenjack Fund. Many programs run in Indigenous communities where intergenerational trauma shapes the needs. “Because I’m a settler and Holly is Indigenous, we come at it from a reconciliation standpoint,” Doyle says.
At music camps, participants from remote communities often make a music video and share it on YouTube. When comments appear from around the world, it’s transformative. “They say, ‘Oh my god, they watched our video.’ It boosts their confidence,” Doyle says, “and they can see themselves in the dialogue — in the broader dialogue of Canada. It’s really beautiful.”
“We really find the kids who are struggling with mental health are drawn to the arts.They start seeing a way to communicate to the world, not just with words.”
Art With A Safety Net
iHuman grew out of an Edmonton art project exploring gangs, guns and violence three decades ago. When it was over, the youth participants asked, “What’s next?”
Multidisciplinary artists Wallis Kendal and Sandra Bromley responded with arts workshops where youth could make sense of the world and express themselves, without judgment. That grassroots effort evolved into iHuman, a nonprofit that delivers arts, dance and music programming alongside wraparound supports for at-risk and street-involved youth aged 12 to 24.
Participants can record music, dance, DJ or create visual art, all at no cost. “It gives them a sense of control in that moment, when the rest of their life is chaotic,” says Sean Arceta, director of communications and a registered social worker who has worked with iHuman for 14 years.
iHuman also helps with basic needs: participants can shower, do laundry and eat nourishing meals. Staff can support them with essentials such as getting photo ID, accessing medical care, housing or substance-use treatment through partner organizations.
The young artists infuse creative energy into public events. At the annual iHuman Art Walk, they sell their work and connect with people and businesses in the Quarters neighbourhood. They also produce Canvas for Hope, a fundraising lunch presented by iHuman that features live painting, DJs and dynamic dance, music and spoken-word performances.
iHuman’s artistic initiatives challenge stereotypes about inner-city youth, enliven public spaces downtown and cultivate hope. “We use the arts as a way to bridge our relationships with the youth, but also for them to feel empowered to use their own voice,” says Arceta.
Helping Artists Make A Living
“Not everyone is put on this earth to fill out forms, and it’s often all that administrative stuff that overwhelms artists,” says Ryan Veltmeyer, executive director of Youth Art Connection (YAC) in Halifax.
Founded in 2012, YAC helps artists aged 30 and under navigate the business side of creative life. Its programs support digital artists, dancers, songwriters, painters and musicians as they showcase their work, build industry connections and tackle the intimidating and sometimes tedious realities of contracts, invoicing, marketing, sales and funding applications.
YAC’s flagship programs include EMERGEHFX, a youth-led music festival and industry conference; ARTpreneurs, a business program taught by artists for artists; and HUBHFX, a weekly drop-in space where emerging creatives and industry professionals can vibe.
Together, these programs help launch the creative careers of young artists, with a focus on Black, Mi’kmaq, 2SLGBTQIA+ and other equity-seeking youth in urban centres and remote rural communities. The impact on the province’s cultural life is tangible: at a recent Nova Scotia Music Week, Veltmeyer counted 21 YAC alumni on stage in a single day.
“It’s really about being around other artists,” says Veltmeyer. “They’re not necessarily understood by their parents, or their peers, who might not understand why they’re doing art, or why they’re so serious about it, or why they don’t go and get ‘a real job.’ Someone who hears that all day enjoys coming to a space where everybody is like them.” CAA