I was really struck by a recent post on Sonia Boué’s blog, titled The art world is Social. In it, she wrote about how even organizations centered around artists with disabilities emphasize the need for collaboration and sociality in the art world in a way that doesn’t acknowledge the difficulties facing people with social disabilities. And when the social world is disabling for you, it isn’t helpful to be told that you must be social in order to do art properly.
It’s a great post, and I urge you to go read the whole thing. But this line in particular hit me really hard:
“It’s inappropriate to advise against isolation to a group who can’t help it – for whom it can be both a feature of creative life and/or a consequence of their disablement.”
I have felt so frustrated in the past for exactly this reason, both in relation to creative aspirations and in other areas of my life. So often, I have encountered the advice—rarely phrased as advice, actually, and more often as an unbreakable rule—that I must connect with others in order to truly reach my potential. I must join groups, network, and collaborate. I must find a community to connect with (and online doesn’t count).
And it’s not like I don’t want to connect; I very often do. I’m also a damned fine contributor when I’m on a team or in a group, if I do say so myself. But it doesn’t come naturally or easily to me, and simply telling me it’s a necessity for real creativity/spirituality/humanity just makes me feel excluded. I need to have it recognized that my participation in a group will also require breaks from that group, and it would be nice to have some kind of support to help me make the initial approach.
But groups have another problem for me, and that is that I never feel fully comfortable anywhere, or at least not for long. I’m always suppressing some parts of myself in order to share other parts, and while this can be a valuable social skill that is pretty much expected of everyone to some degree (acceptable behavior and conversation in the workplace, for example, is much more restricted than while relaxing with close friends) it becomes a strain when it’s required in a situation where openness is expected. If I’m in a group where I’m expected to allow myself to become known, but there are several important aspects of myself that I don’t think will be understood, I end up stressed out and hyper-vigilant, trying to manage what information I reveal and conceal, while at the same time trying to be relaxed and friendly. Eventually, the cognitive dissonance gets to me and I have to leave.
As VisualVox pointed out in a recent blog post on a similar topic, “fitting in” by masking and blending is often enough to make others feel comfortable, and to give them the feeling that we belong in the group, but that’s not the same thing as being comfortable ourselves. And many of us are just not suited to clear-cut affiliations and easy-to-grasp labels.
I am, as this blog’s title implies, quite eclectic. I have a number of different interests, and a broad range of knowledge (as well as strong opinions) across several areas that don’t translate well into soundbites and often leave me in a weird place with respect to different people who share some of my views but not others. I also like to learn new things, and I tend to grow and change in ways that sometimes alienate me from people who knew me earlier. So I don’t really expect to find a community that perfectly matches all aspects of me with my ever-changing, eclectic interests and my autistic neurotype and my odd sense of humor and my unconventional perspectives. I don’t really know what I do want, to be honest. I just want to find some balance between solitude and connection, in some way that feels like actual belonging.