“I’m not an artist. I’m a cartoonist.”
I’ve said these
words more than I can count…and I’m thankful for it.
For as long
as I can remember, I have been able to draw cartoons. That’s it. Cartoons.
Sure, I can maybe fudge my way around a watercolor when I have to, but in the
end…I’m still just a cartoonist.
The first
time I remember really realizing this—and garnering the attention you can
receive from drawing funny pictures—was in kindergarten. This was in 1966 and the
Batman TV series was at the height of its popularity. It was at this time that (during
playtime) I would take some crayons and construction paper and draw Batman.
After I’d finish one, I’d give it to one of the kids watching over my shoulder.
I have to admit; my little 6 year old heart and head loved having that crowd of
classmates around me—oooing and aahing as I colored the Caped Crusader.
I was
hooked.
I quickly
learned the fastest way to break the social ice and make friends in school was
to draw funny pictures, and it really helped me when we moved away from my
hometown for two years and had to start anew in different schools. Then, it
REALLY helped in high school where I honed my ability to do caricatures.
Getting sent to Principal Sater’s office for caricaturizing him as
Frankenstein’s monster was one of my personal highlights.
And I
thought I was the luckiest guy in the world when I got to be a cartoonist for a
living. Out of college, I worked my way through a handful of newspapers before
landing my dream job: Editorial cartoonist for The Dallas Times Herald—a Pulitzer Prize winning major daily
newspaper. Things got a little heady when my cartoons started regularly
appearing in Newsweek, The New
York Times and, The Washington Post.
And just like little 6 year Danny in kindergarten, I loved the attention (and
respect) garnered from having my work published nationally.
A little TOO
much.
I began
obsessing over this—landing in Newsweek.
I would run to the nearest newsstand each Monday, rifling through the latest
Newsweek—heart pounding—hoping…wishing…even praying that one of my cartoons had
made it on to their Perspectives
page. And when one of my cartoons did…it was like a drug! A huge rush! I would
walk back to the newspaper, head swirling in ego…then pretending like it wasn’t
a big deal to everyone else.
But it WAS a
big deal to me.
Deep down…in
that dark and secret place of my heart…it was a huge deal! It somehow validated
me. Getting reprinted nationally became my idol…and I would have done anything
to appease it. Which is one of the main reasons why it hurt so badly when The Dallas Times Herald closed its doors
in 1991—ending my career as an editorial cartoonist.
I thought it
was the end of the world, but in reality…it was the beginning of something new…and
healthy…and right. The closing of the Times Herald doors
marks the opening of my heart to God.
Since that
fateful day in December of 1991, God has continued to pick away at that dark and
secret place in my heart…and do a mighty work. He has painstakingly walked me
through my own “valley of the shadow of
death” and helped me kill that greedy, lusting part of my life that had
become an all-consuming, unquenchable fire of ego. Honestly. I wouldn’t have
done it on my own. Left up to me, I would still be craving and lusting after that
attention.
Which brings
me to another school and another time.
Last week I
was in Kabul, Afghanistan with a team of men from Flatirons visiting our
partner organization. We were asked to paint the walls of the cafeteria at the
new school—a haven for the street kids of Kabul. Someone suggested that I draw
some cartoons to decorate the walls; fun pictures for the kids to enjoy as they
ate their free lunch.
As I worked
on these pictures (painting side-by-side with one of the school’s leaders) I was
struck by the difference a few years can make.
I am still able to make friends
and break the ice with a funny picture, but God has taken this odd, little gift
He’s given me and allowed me to use it for His purposes. He had redeemed the brokenness
in my heart and made it new…and healthy…and right.
Paul writes
in Romans 8:28 – “And we know that in all things God works for the good of
those who love him, who have
been called according to his purpose."
I used to
question God about my fatal career as an editorial cartoonist. I doubted His
goodness when The Dallas Times Herald
closed down, and I often wondered what the heck He was doing (or NOT doing)
with this gift He’d given me.
But sitting
on that dirty school floor last week in Kabul…next to my fellow Afghan
cartoonist…decorating walls for kids who might never see or meet me…I was
humbled and grateful. Grateful that all things DO work for the good…according
to His purpose.
So, in this
week of Thanksgiving, I am grateful that Crayola pictures of Batman in
kindergarten led to…caricatures of Mr. Sater in high school…which led to
President Bush in The Dallas Times
Herald and Newsweek…which eventually
led to a school basement in Kabul.
And I love God
all the more for it. Happy Thanksgiving!
—Dan
