Tuesday, October 15, 2013

The Creative Elite

The word for them is snobs.  They would probably prefer to be called aficionados or experts.  But no, the word for them is still snobs. 

They are those people who look down on you for your lack of knowledge about Beethoven and Debussy.  Who judge you because you don't know the difference between pointillism and impressionism.  Who look at your feeble attempts at a novel and laugh out loud.  

Every field has them, and in the creative arts, the opportunities for snobbishness increase exponentially.  Because creativity is often not always a skill taught but sometimes a talent acquired.  Some people are just born with it, and learning all of the extras is the easy part.

On top of that, there is the specialized language.  When you as a classical music person a question, they will answer with words like adagio, diminuendo, and other Italian words that you have no idea what they mean when they could have just said "slow" and you would've understood what they've said.

These elite use the terms of their field to differentiate who is in the know and who isn't.  It's a pretty good litmus test.  A few can pass through the first few uses, but once you keep going through your laundry list of words, pretty soon the intruder will stumble and you'll know them for who they really are: a wannabe. 

Okay, all joking aside, my words are laced with stereotype and not all people who love classical music, fine arts, or literature are snobs.  But we can't deny that there is a difference between those people and those who love pop, painting and books.  

Having played violin since I was seven and been heavily involved in orchestra, I have gotten a taste of the elitist worlds of both writing and music.  And I've been a snob now and again.  I've mocked and teased and raised eyebrows at those who knew less than I did or who had to ask, "What does that mean?" or those who think they are good and really aren't. 

Yes, I've been a stuck up snob.  Not proud.  Just a recovering ego addict. 

It's a trap you fall into when you're talented at what you do.  Some people aren't born with talent; they have to earn their skills through hard work.  You laugh at their pain, sweat and tears because it just came naturally to you.  Something must be wrong with them.

Not only is that rude and wrong, but its closing off the beautiful world of creativity from those who want to jump in and explore its shores.  We take away the ability to leave a legacy behind.  We scold instead of teach, mock instead of encourage.  

I had the wonderful opportunity of teaching music for about six years.  It was one of the best things I've ever done for myself.  Being a tutor to someone not only helps you learn your craft so much more but also develops a love for the art.  It becomes something you want to share instead of put on a pedestal.  On top of it all, any creative art only gets better when you collaborate.   

Thanks for reading my blog and going on this journey with me.  I hope we'll be able to share more creativity together in the future. 

Soli Deo Gloria.