What My Nine-Year-Old Nephew Taught Me About the Future of Creativity
Not to be dramatic or anything, but what is with all the complaining lately? Yes, tech is shifting the ground beneath our feet like never before. But it’s no good moaning about it. AI isn’t going anywhere. And before you roll your eyes and mutter, not that topic again, I’ve got just one important point: You either get busy living—or get busy dying—in this fast-paced, competitive world. No one else is going to make things happen for you. You make your own luck. And that’s exactly why it’s so frustrating to see fellow creatives wallowing in self-pity about the way things are changing.
Thing is, we’ve had a good run. The last two decades have been incredible for creatives. It’s been a period of immense opportunity—arguably the best in history. Never before have so many people been able to build careers, brands, and audiences from a laptop, a phone, or a Wi-Fi signal.
Generations before us? They didn’t have it so easy. Launching your own thing used to take serious money, serious backing, and serious privilege. Technology opened doors that had been shut for centuries. And for me? It’s been a good friend. I don’t intend that to change.
A few weekends ago, I was babysitting my nephew. He’s nine—full of energy, full of questions, and already lapping up AI and social media like he was born for it. He’s coding his own games. Messing with voice cloning. He even hacked my podcast voice to make me sing some mad version of the TikTok song, Tung Tung Tung Sahur - Ratatung. Honestly? Mind-blowing.
And it reminded me of something. How we embraced the internet in the early 2000s. How our parents asked us to help them set up Facebook. How they were always just a bit behind. And now—somehow—we’re becoming them.
That day was a jolt. I’ve never really marked time in a traditional way. I’ve always felt like a big kid. But technology has a funny way of making you feel your age. Especially when a nine-year-old is remixing your voice on ElevenLabs.
But it wasn’t just mind-blowing. It was motivating.
My nephew isn’t afraid of what’s coming—he’s excited by it. He helps me choose music for Reels, comes up with TikTok ideas, asks about my work. His eyes go wide when I list everything I do in a day. I call myself a generalist. He didn’t know that was even possible. Not yet. But one day, he might be one too.
And who knows what tools he’ll have by then? The possibilities are endless.
For now, he’s armed with the most powerful creative superpower there is: curiosity. And he’s reminded me how vital it is to protect mine. Because whatever comes next, the only way through is to stay open—open to learning, to evolving, to trying new things.
Burying my head in the sand isn’t an option.
I’m dusting off that big kid in me—the one who used to run headfirst into the unknown—and I’m asking her the only question that matters: What’s next?