The rain had stopped, the air was hazy, and the pavilion was alive with buzzing (and elderly) theatregoers. It was opening night of a musical I love well, performed by a small local theatre company. My boyfriend, my sister, my friend Jess and I settled ourselves on the right side of the outdoor theatre with absolutely no idea of what we were going to get ourselves into.
But as the first notes of the musical began to ring out, it dawned on us. Slowly. Like a load of bricks to the face.
It wasn’t a bad musical by any means, and we had a great time singing along and laughing both when we were and were not supposed to be laughing. We chattered about what we liked and didn’t like all the way home, mostly about how although the musical wasn’t that bad, it definitely didn’t deserve the standing ovation it received.
My mom asked how the play was, and we giggled to ourselves as we told her about all the slightly flat/sharp notes, the acting, the way the audience was eating it up. My boyfriend had a thoughtful look on his face and said, “You know, this made me realize that I can be really critical about things like this, and I don’t really like how that makes me feel.”
A few days later, my local newspaper published a glowing review of this musical. It spoke of chemistry that I didn’t see and prowess that was a tad overblown. How is there supposed to be growth when the only commentary given is so rosy and inflating?
I think that my boyfriend is absolutely right. The kind of criticism that only points out the wrong puts me in a place of superiority over others, and that’s a place that isn’t always earned, kind, or constructive. At the same time, only passing out encouragement isn’t going to help anyone grow; it’s like feeding a twelve-year-old a steady diet of cotton candy. My boyfriend realized that there needs to be a balance of humility and of criticism when giving feedback. His words stuck with my mom, and they’ve stuck with me.
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I think an example of what I mean is the constructive criticism I experienced in my college fiction writing class. It was a small class, and we were all wary of each other. After all, sharing writing is a very intimate thing, and having a stranger rip it apart was not anyone’s first choice.
But as the class went on and we began to trust each other, my attitude towards receiving criticism changed. Instead of focusing on my shortcomings, my classmates helped me to see both my strengths and places where I could improve my writing. Giving and receiving constructive criticism became a joy. I learned that criticism didn’t have to be a wrecking ball, smashing into what I had taken so many hours building and curating. Instead, it could be a set of gardening tools, that I may prune what has already been planted.
Criticism requires relationship and balance. It requires self-awareness and others-awareness. And it also requires both parties to have a willingness to listen.
Praise is great, and it feels really nice, but too much of it stifles growth. It’s like learning to ice skate and wrapping layers and layers of bubble wrap around yourself until you can’t move. You can’t fall. If you can’t fall, two things happen: you think you’re invincible, and you’ll always be afraid of falling.
My friends and family know that they can come to me not only with their struggles, but also with criticism that they have for me. I value their input and know that I can do the same for them. I believe that an important part of friendship is honesty and authenticity, the ability to speak freely and the assurance that you will be heard and met with love. If you can’t extend criticism to someone you claim to be close to, what kind of relationship is that? If you are criticized by someone you claim to be close to and all trust goes out the window, what kind of relationship is that?
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I want to grow as an artist and friend and sister and daughter and girlfriend and leader. If that means someone bringing to my attention a place where I can do better, then may I not blather and rage and make excuses for myself. May I not gripe and wallow and beat myself up for the places where I have lacked either. May I see criticism rooted in love and seasoned with encouragement as an opportunity for growth. May I hear the check of the Holy Spirit prick me through the nudge of a friend. And may I learn to encourage, edify, and, yes, criticize those around me, that we all may move towards who God is calling us to be.