When You Hate Something I Love
Picture this: my husband and I are visiting Chicago and we decide to visit the Art Institute of Chicago because obviously we HAVE to go. My husband loves me and is the most supportive person I have known. And so I gently guide him to the Contemporary Art gallery, imagining the rich and engaging conversations we will have.
Here is what happens…
My husband looks at the pieces and starts making the types of comments I have heard from all sorts of people… “I could make this myself…you call this art?!...what is the point of that?!”
I quickly lunge forward, hoping to mold his unknowing brain. I respond, “Interesting that you feel that way. What don’t you like about it? It seems like you value artwork that is more realistic and pretty, is that fair?” Wow, I am so sophisticated.
His response: “I don’t know, I just don’t like looking at this stuff.”
My response: “Fine, if you don’t want to have a conversation or even think about anything, I’ll just look at things myself. I can meet you outside if you want.” Wow, real mature, I know.
I guess we won’t be the art critics I dreamed of becoming…and also maybe I can see how I might be a little touchy about modern art??
I think I feel a need to defend art and its value; I hear people express really intense reactions or opinions and I want them to see it how I see it (I mean, don’t we all?)
At first I thought art was the only thing that got bagged on so badly. I felt like I needed to come to the defense of its inherent value. In my art education classes, we talked about ways in which we as future educators could convince students, parents, teachers, administration, etc. of why art was of such value in our society. I had friends laugh or question what I was doing in an art-related degree. One guy looked at me and said, “well congrats on wanting to be a janitor the rest of your life” (well congrats to you, random stranger from my past, for not knowing how cool being a janitor can be). And so naturally I want to battle against anything that is negative about artwork in general.
Although I am inclined to think that nobody else has had to defend their passions and loves in life like I have, that just simply isn’t true. We all want people to see things how we see things. I feel silly writing that because it is so painfully obvious everywhere I look. Politics, religion, social change, something as small as food preferences (like actually how are pickles appetizing?), really anything involving an opinion or belief or idea. That response seems to be very natural and automatic. We very easily group ourselves into categories and feel comfortable with people who are similar to us.
This brings me right back to my time in Chicago with my husband and this idea of finding each other in the middle of our differences in opinion and taste. It is so funny how I can get so personally offended at someone’s differing opinion, as if I was “Contemporary Artwork” embodied. It is hard to separate yourself as a person from the identities or opinions/beliefs you connect to. I always felt that because I am an “Artist,” that means I must defend everything there is to know about art to people who don’t enjoy it. Or as a “Christian” I thought that I had to have an answer to any and every question a person could ask me. But guess what? I am not “Art” or “Christianity.” I am Madison, a person who doesn’t know everything, naturally has likes and dislikes, and who is not a billboard for the things I enjoy or identify with. Which means that in turn, when people who perhaps dislike aspects of something important to me like “Art” or “Christianity”, that doesn’t mean they are rejecting me as a person. I don’t have to automatically take it personally. Do I always need someone to validate my opinions? Well obviously it makes me feel nice….but no, I guess not.
I think it then follows to ask myself, how do I respond to the things other people value and love when I don’t love those same things? Being confronted with unknown or different ideas/opinions may require a certain level of openness, exploration, and contentment in our own perspectives. Openness to possibly try looking at something as another person does. Exploration to gain more knowledge and see if that by learning, our perspective starts to evolve and shift. Contentment to give space to ourselves and others for who we are as unique individuals without trying to wish we all felt the same.
None of these ideas are new, but I have thought a lot about how I can approach differences a little better. And I look around online or in group settings and wonder if we would all feel a little lighter and more confident if we resisted the urge to try and convince others of our opinions and accept that we have unique perspectives and ideas and feelings.
So although my husband doesn’t enjoy contemporary art (to be fair, a lot of people don’t), he still loves me (and I know, that sounds like the most obvious statement of the century, but the brain does make these crazy leaps!!). Just because you might vote for different political candidates than your neighbor doesn’t mean you can’t be good friends. I don't have to always talk about how much I hate running every time a friend mentions that they love it. And if you start to get to know a person, you will hopefully start to realize they are more than the labels we use to explain our interests or identities.
