During the first class with a new group of high-schoolers taking our America’s Artistic Legacy course, I asked an important question. The question was posed after my initial presentation of what falls in the category of “American Art”—in short, the whole range of artistic expressions created here, or by Americans abroad, from string quartets and operas, to paintings and sculptures, to Broadway theater and modern dance, to clogging and storytelling, to weaving, furniture-making, floral arranging, and the culinary arts. Plus everything in between.

Theoretically, such a presentation will open the students’ consciousness about the breadth of the  artistic legacy that has shaped our culture. Ideally, it will serve to make that legacy seem more accessible and relevant.

So here is how I worded my question: “What artistic legacies have come down to you through your own family?”

Well, a class may be virtual, but a teacher can still tell when students are flummoxed. The hitherto active chat stopped. Finally one girl wrote that her great-grandmother’s regional fame back in Italy as a pasta-maker was passed down to her mom and now was being developed in her. She stated it hesitantly, as though she were thinking, “This probably sounds stupid.”

But of course it was perfect! “Fabulous!” I exclaimed, and to myself said, “This should open up the flood gates.”

Alas, it didn’t. Comments came slowly. One student alluded to some kind of old uncle who made furniture, some of which the family still used. Someone else named a master seamstress back in the family. And that was about it.

Now, you know this cannot be right. With that many students, was there nary a relative who played the banjo or piano? Did watercolors, made pottery, cross-stitched, or cut silhouettes? Worked as a silversmith? Danced in the folk ensembles that once characterized our immigrant-rich small towns?

Of course there was. Yet, either the kids were in shock at the question or they had never been told these things. So we discussed the next step: “Go find out!!

When our class meets next week, these students  should have more stories to tell—perhaps more than they expect. I look forward to what I imagine will be a lively discussion, both through chat and on-screen talk.

Meanwhile, I cannot help but ask. Do your kids know the answer to my question? Do you? Did the stories of your ancestors’ artistic talents come down to you? If not, take a moment and try to find out. Ask whatever older relatives you still have, for the opportunity to pose this question is not endless (as we all sadly find out). Maybe your uncle’s cousin was a master whistler or master whittler . . . or possibly both at the same time! Perhaps a great aunt tatted. Maybe a long-ago relative sang in Vaudeville (as one of mine did). Perhaps another relative from the past crafted figurines or, for that matter, was a passionate collector of such things. There is, in fact, a great art in collecting items of beauty and significance.

In every case, help your children to think through what effort it took to develop and practice these “legacy” forms of art, particularly in eras when opportunities and financial means were not present. Think about the limitations they had to overcome, particularly if they lived in remote areas or lacked mentors. Help them realize the energy and care it takes to create and preserve a collection of any sort, from model trains to music boxes to whatever beloved item was assembled across a lifetime,

To state the obvious one more time: there is a limited time to learn the answers to my question. Grab whom you can and ask. Or, better yet, have your kids do the asking. After all, it is their artistic legacy that awaits discovery.