From The Archives: 11.12.2018
An entry salvaged from the archives of my previous blog. Originally published on November 12, 2018.
Don't get me wrong, I had support. We were pretty well off while I was growing up. If I evinced any interest in anything that was even remotely educational -- including arts education -- my parents promptly forked out for whatever I needed to do it. They may have been lacking in other respects, but they were always brilliant at throwing money at things.
On the other hand, nobody ever cared if I abandoned one of those things. Nobody. Ever. Or if they did, they were careful not to voice it. It was just never spoken of again. It was so consistent that not only did I not consult my parents any of the times I changed my major in college, I don't think I even bothered to tell them.
In some cases, this was because the relevant authority figures had trouble remembering to pay actual attention to other people, but mostly I think people were afraid to box me into anything before I found The Right Thing. I think that's how most people do it -- they try different stuff until they find the one thing they feel brilliant at, that is fulfilling and gets real results, and that's how they pick their career.
Which is great and all, except the thing I'm super good at is learning. I can count on my fingers the number of times I put real effort into something and didn't wind up pretty competent. I can remember a some things where I looked at the ratio of effort to expertise and decided it was too much work for the reward. But mostly I remember looking around and realizing that everybody was thrilled that I was being publicly smart, but completely indifferent about what I was doing with it.
Look, when you can get good at damn near anything you set your mind to, that really stops being a relevant criterion. I know people tell you "don't listen to anyone else, do it for yourself," but I've been doing everything for myself all my life. I didn't stuff 5+ languages into my head to impress other people. If everyone is so careful not to tell you they're disappointed you're not doing their thing anymore, it also gives the impression that they didn't care whether you were there in the first place. It always makes me feel weirdly invisible, no matter how much praise I get. Clearly my efforts are making no difference of any kind to anybody, so why should I bother?
The dance teachers like to tell me how well I'm doing, with this undertone of, "Please don't quit my class." Which is interesting, because none of them are making any money off of me. The non-profit that runs the place compensates the desk volunteers with comp time, usable for classes or studio rental. I'm not paying anything for any of this (ordinarily very expensive) professional training. Maestra is being particularly vocal about wanting me to continue, with that same half-startled, half-cautious, voice I used to get from the gifted program teachers in grade school. That sort of 'teeeeeeechnically you don't have the necessary prereqs for this, but, uh, you've done startling stuff before, so let me make arrangements' thing.
I recognize that tone, and I'm undecided on whether it's necessarily a good thing. But hell, at least someone has an opinion on the worth of my work now.
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