These are the things I keep telling myself anyway.
It's been a week since I submitted my first article to Plugged In. Bob has been eerily silent. Not even a "Thanks. I'll take a look." has been uttered. The longer I wait, the worse my mind conjures up a horrible response. At first, I was expecting a "We'll just need to make some changes." Then, it changed to a "We'll need to make some MAJOR changes, but I think we can use it." A few days later, it had morphed into "We just can't use this. It's no good." Today, I think it's officially gone from "Maybe we can't use anything you've written-EVER" to "You suck as a person. And yes, it's as personal as it sounds."
*sigh*
Submitting personal work of any sort--painting, writing, etc.--is always met with extreme emotions, either very good or very bad, simply because your creation reflects a part of you. Actually, it IS a piece of you, painfully and thoughtfully separated from your very heart, mind, and soul. To see it criticized, disdained, or destroyed is like watching your own child be rejected. Even when you are seasoned in this type of work and understand that changes will be made and not everyone will have the same opinion of your piece, it is still a challenge to separate yourself from that which originated from your own being.
Now, there is a difference between completing a project with set parameters and creating art simply for your own pleasure. A creation solely fashioned for oneself can be unique and highly specialized; there is no need to seek the approval of others. A specific assignment, on the other hand, be it for school, compensation, or another set goal, is more difficult, for you must make your own ideas line up with the criteria that has been previously presented. Sometimes these guidelines and restrictions can help to whittle down the scope of the project, but in the end, it still must pass the inspection of another, be it teacher, boss, etc.
I think the most disappointing scenario is when you are given an assignment, along with certain freedoms, only to have been misled in the expectations of what was desired. this happened to me more than once when I was in college, surprisingly enough. You would think that if there were ever an environment where creativity could blossom and free expression would be embraced, the university setting would be it. Alas, this was not the case.
I was in an Early American literature class, where we were expected to compose a certain number of papers along the course of the class timeline. We were never told that our perspective had to agree with that of our professor, but I soon discovered that that was exactly the case. My first paper, which was on Thoreau, was not overly praising of his work, as I do not particularly enjoy his compositions nor do I agree with his ideals. While I did feel that my work was executed quite well, I received a fairly low grade. If I remember correctly, this happened again. I realized then that my professor was simply looking for his students to agree with his point of view and embraced all that he held dear himself. To test my theory, I wrote my final paper, the subject being Walt Whitman, his favorite writer of all time, from a completely different perspective than my own. While it did not align with my other writings one bit, I raved on and on about how WONDERFUL Mr. Whitman was! I received an A!
To be honest, this happened more than once, and I am pretty sure that this knowledge served to dishearten me regarding higher education enough to deter me from completing my degree, if not dome single-handedly. My expectations of college were to be taught, yes, but also to expand my own mind and to stretch my own limitations. Can you imagine my complete disappointment at finding out that literally one instructor after another simply wanted to make of me a clone or miniature of themselves.
Expressing ourselves--being ourselves--with all of our original ideas and unique idiosyncrasies, is what makes each one of us special. While these cannot always be accepted by others with the same approval that we may have for them ourselves, there is something invaluable about the ability to freely create--even if it is not pleasing to anyone but yourself.
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