Why don't we pin our children's maths tests, or geography lessons, or even the terrific emerging little essays that our kids write above our desks at work, or on the family fridge? Why is it always their art?

I don't think one is more important than the other (in fact, the international rankings this week would suggest the need for much more focus on those maths tests), but from the moment a child plonks their fat little fingers in a pot of paint and smears it across the paper, there is something about their innate joy in creativity that connects deeply to us, and we can't help but see that it reveals a truth, an inner-vision about our child that we want to celebrate and know more about.

It's as if their art, their singing, their music-making tells a story of them that is powerful and moving, and we can't get enough of it.

But fast forward a few years, past the school concerts and piano lessons and pinch pots and student exhibitions, and something switches in us: not so much enthusiasm anymore for a life in the arts — isn't it time you started focussing on those legal studies, science, maths?

The thought that a young one might actually commit to a creative life might fill us with pride, but equally it's terrifying: how will they live? Can you make any money that way? Is that really a life of achievement?

At the same time we are all still going to the musicals and the galleries and the museums when we can: we're thrilled when a star comes here and sings and we queue for Harry Potter tickets.

The creative life? Totally get it! But for our kids? Not so much.

And with that I reckon we are kidding ourselves: we know the power of the arts because it is story-telling at its very best. We yearn to see creativity in our children and we celebrate their individuality and flair.

But someone somewhere has persuaded us it's not as important as the job at the desk, the ride up the greasy pole — and a lack of Federal arts policy doesn't help.

This week the Morrison Government dealt the arts sector a body blow, by folding the Federal department into a transport super-ministry, stripping the name "arts" from the portfolio, and hiding it somewhere among a much-reduced department without its own specialist director — and let me tell you why that matters.

Portfolios are statements of intention, of what a Government's priorities are and what it considers matters most to Australians.

We're thrilled when a star comes here to sing, but the creative life for our kids? No thanks. ( AP: Peter Byrne )

In case you think this is some ideological battle, let me remind you that some conservative governments, just as much as Labor ones, have regarded a well-supported arts sector as central to our lives.

In my home state of Victoria our creatives still walk on platforms built by Liberal Premiers Dick Hamer and Jeff Kennett.

Prime Minister Malcolm Fraser was certain about the centrality of creativity in our culture, and Malcolm Turnbull actually stood firm against artist censorship even when Kevin Rudd did not.

The creative industries are an $111 billion industry in Australia, seeded and encouraged by Federal and state investment.

And as AI starts to take jobs away from us — watch out engineering, the law, medicine and manufacturing — it will only be our originality and creativity that the robots won't be able to replicate.

And as we pull away from each other in a society of ever-widening strands of division and mistrust, as our population grows and people come here from so many different places, if we don't have a culture policy committed to telling diverse Australian stories, our stories, creatively and compellingly, then, as former mandarin Terry Moran told me yesterday, we may never cohere into a unified country ever again.

Stories matter — they are really all we have, and stories are told through art, song, performance, writing and music.

These things connect to the best of us, just as we instinctively realised the day we first drew a rainbow across a page and stepped back to admire our work, realising we had poetry deep within us, and it was beautiful.

This weekend we revisit the poetry of one of our most beloved artists, singer, songwriter and troubadour of the every day, Paul Kelly, and one of his best-known tributes to the city he loves.

Gravity and Other Myths acrobats on stage. ( Supplied: Carnival Cinema, Hamish McCormick )

That maths conundrum I mentioned before is given alarming resonance by maths teacher Robin Nagy who says he can't teach his beloved subject in this country anymore: his reasons why are a call to arms.

And the secret trial of Prisoner J: not a story from Iran or North Korea or Saudi Arabia, but right here in our beloved country. Is this the beginning of a secret state?

Have a safe and happy weekend. The town of Young, in NSW, celebrates its 70th annual cherry festival this weekend — it might be a bit far for a weekend jaunt, but support your local fruit growers doing it very tough through drought and fire by buying a box of these crimson jewels for your pre-Christmas celebrations.

Harry James Angus from the enduring party that is the Cat Empire stopped by the show the other day, and his haunting new single Streetlamps, born of bad dreams and his perfect horn-playing has gone to the top of my music list for 2019 — I know you'll love it.

Virginia Trioli is presenter on Mornings on ABC Radio Melbourne and the former co-host of ABC News Breakfast.