We were lucky to catch up with Caroline McAuliffe recently and have shared our conversation below.

Hi Caroline, thanks for joining us today. Can you open up about a risk you’ve taken – what it was like taking that risk, why you took the risk and how it turned out?

The biggest risk I’ve taken in life is becoming a parent. The experience is something I didn’t expect to happen nor something I planned for. In fact, I had dug my heels in and said it wasn’t happening. At that time I wasn’t in the place to make it happen. That changed when I met my wife and we both kinda wanted it, and were held up by each other’s interest in trying for it. The risks were high. I wasn’t exactly sure I wanted a child or to carry one. Could I be a decent parent with that indecision? Could I conceive at all due to needing science to help us, and was my body healthy enough to carry? It felt like Russian roulette to use my body this way after being warned to never get pregnant when I was 19 by a doctor treating me for fibromyalgia. Would the process bring on the health risks he threatened me with? Would I absolutely hate the bizarro science experiment of a child growing inside me? And on the other side, if I got all the way there, what would life be like? Would our child be healthy? And if we were fortunate for us all to be healthy, would I be able to reclaim parts of myself even in the hard times people tell you about? Could I be a practicing artist? Teach again? Go dancing? Who would be taking care of our kid when we returned to work? So many unknowns. It felt tremendous all during a global pandemic.

We have a child now. Our lives are markedly different, and autonomy and individual personhood has fallen away. But I still make art. I still teach. We’ve figured out childcare. I even go dancing sometimes. What I didn’t expect after becoming a parent was that making art about this new identity would actually resonate with more people. While my work has always been about identity and storytelling through masks and photos, I was now living through and communicating from an experience of many more people.

Great, appreciate you sharing that with us. Before we ask you to share more of your insights, can you take a moment to introduce yourself and how you got to where you are today to our readers.

I am an interdisciplinary artist and fine arts specialist. I’m a mask maker and storyteller. I love process, materials, getting weird and repurposing.

My photographic work explores the concept of power and myth through textiles and masks. I draw upon my own cultural histories of mask wearers, elements of power and kink, and historical scenes of concealment. Masks denote power from the unknown, offer a costume for the jester, a shield for the fragile, and freedom from self. I want to be hidden and completely present. The masks, or wearables, are made of scavenged materials ranging in process from crochet, knit, sewn, or woven textiles.

My most recent series, the Invisible Móðir exemplifies the concept of being hidden and completely present in plain sight. I am a myth in the making while chasing the myth of the mother.
For me, the Móðir series references the Victorian images, while also referencing the amorphous entity that is a mother. I feel mother non-conforming, unsure of how I am a part of and embody the role, and yet I twist and turn myself into whatever is needed for my child daily. Many former selves are now in the shadows of this bigger thing that has muscled in—mother. The historical photographs of mothers concealed under heavy textiles holding their children in order to capture a photo have always struck me for their comical and creepy lengths mothers go for their children. After having my child, these images feel like the truest record of the chaos wrapped in a bow.

I like to dress up in my art and dance. You can see some of that on my instagram. I hold an M.F.A from Pratt Institute and currently work with toddlers as a Studio Arts Specialist in lower Manhattan. My work has appeared in group shows nationally and internationally, most recently in South Korea and Japan. I live and create in Brooklyn with my wife, Karen, and kid, Sal.

Can you tell us about a time you’ve had to pivot?

After becoming a parent everything was a pivot. It’s been the biggest think-on-your-toes season of life. So many things changed during the pandemic for me. I got married. We had our child. And my career changed. As an arts educator, my job was looked at for its bottom line, and was reduced during the pandemic to save my school money. After having my child, my bottom line shifted too. My commitment to my job beyond their investment in me ended. When the institution didn’t support me after returning from my parental leave, I was angry and knew my values and identity that were wrapped up in doing what I did for money had to change. Our child was more important than holding onto such things. I took the biggest leap of faith I had taken in my life outside of having a child and quit my job without one to replace it. Supporting my family weighed on me, but I also needed to face the realities of my personal circumstances and the current field of arts education. After many many interviews and stumbles, I found a new art teaching placement that suits our lives much better. The forced pivot worked for me.

How can we best help foster a strong, supportive environment for artists and creatives?

Democratize access to healthcare, housing, childcare, parental leave, education and educational debt relief, in addition to wage increases and more direct contracts with cities/states for artists to do what they do best—make our lived experiences better. Creatives already build thriving ecosystems and contribute to the depth of our human experience in our currently lacking structures. With greater access to all of the above for everyone, we’d all be better off.

Contact Info:

• Website: https://www.carolinemcauliffe.com/
• Instagram: https://www.instagram.com/carolinemcauliffeart/

Image Credits
Alan Cano, Series photographer