Words Matter (And Feathers Are Messy)

There are many critics in today’s world. Some even hold the esteemed position of being a professional reviewer. These people let us know what is or isn’t acceptable, delicious, or appealing, whether it’s art, movies, books, food, etc. 

And in this day and age of social media, most of us at one time or another have posted a viewpoint concerning something we feel strongly about. I do this quite often in the form of a blog post. I begin pondering something that is bothering me, or items on the other end of the scale that I consider important or worth touting, and before long, I’m typing away, expressing my opinion.

Bottom line, that’s all any critic is doing: expressing their opinion. I may or may not agree with what is being raked over the coals, that is my choice. Their opinions are based on their experience or lack thereof, and so are mine. 

Here’s what I don’t like: the tendency to believe whatever is shared, whether it’s a critique of a fancy restaurant, a movie or book review, or local gossip. What if the restaurant in question is having a bad day when the critic arrives to sample? What if normally, that restaurant serves amazing food, but the critic arrives the one time the soup is scorched, or a waitress trips after working a double-shift and happens to spill everything on a tray that is in reality, much too heavy for one person to carry. The headlines the next day read: “Terrible food and service. Avoid this eatery!” And the damage is done. Because of what one person has said, others believe the review, and suddenly, a really good restaurant is going out of business because of an opinion.

We’ve all heard the analogy of the blind men who are all trying to describe an elephant. Every person comes up with a different description, based on the limited experience they have had with the subject matter. To my way of thinking, this applies to life in general. We all bring differing opinions and experiences to the table, and then insist that everyone else needs to believe what we have to say about things. Perhaps instead, we need to refrain from judging, and look for the good in each situation.

When my mother was a young teen, she was asked to prepare a talk for church based on the negative effects of gossip. She was quite close to her father, and one day while they were outside doing chores (she grew up on a Wyoming ranch) she spoke with him about this talk she had to give in church that Sunday. He gave her an idea to use as an object lesson, and she eagerly agreed.

The day for the talk finally arrived. Clutching a paper bag, my mother stood at the pulpit and declared how harmful gossip could be. She then opened the paper bag, and shook it out into the chapel. It was full of the feathers she had gathered that week, and they went everywhere throughout the large room. She then made a profound analogy, declaring that sharing gossip was like emptying a bag of feathers into a room—there was no way you could possibly gather up what had been scattered in all directions. 

It was a very effective object lesson, but my grandmother was appalled. And my mother spent the rest of the day cleaning up the feather mess, aided by her father.

I’ve reflected on that story quite often. It usually makes me smile—my grandfather possessed a great sense of humor, and I’ll bet he absolutely loved it when my mother released the contents of her paper bag. Even though it proved to be a messy adventure, an important point was made: when we share a juicy tidbit that we’ve learned, overheard, misinterpreted, etc. with someone else, we have no control over how far or wide that tidbit will travel. And details are usually added along the way that make it even more interesting. It’s called human nature.

How wonderful it would be if we refrained from sharing negative items. There is an argument that criticism makes us strive for perfection. To my way of thinking, most of the time, criticism actually has the opposite effect. How many times have we been personally deflated by a negative opinion? 

Years ago, I was asked to perform on a talent show that featured teens from the area. The problem was, it was to take place the same night as a high school girls’ basketball game. Since I was a member of said team, my attendance was mandatory at that event. I figured I could still make it on time to perform at the talent show, and I agreed to try. 

It ended up being a very intense game and I played during a goodly portion of it. I quickly showered, changed, and my parents drove me across town for the talent show. I arrived minutes before I was supposed to perform. I had been asked to do a song that I had written, and I accompanied myself on the guitar. The problem was, I was exhausted, out of breath, and hadn’t had a chance to warm up my vocal chords. I may have also been a little hoarse from cheering for our team here and there. Just sayin’. Anyway, when it was time for my number, I walked out onto the stage and did the best that I could under the circumstances. I knew it wasn’t my finest performance, but I really tried. 

When the show was over and I picked up my guitar case to leave, someone I considered to be a good friend marched up to me and said: “I don’t know why you think you can sing! That was awful!” Then she whirled around and left. I was crushed. In that moment, I silently vowed that I would never sing again.

Fortunately, one of my YW leaders had also been the crowd that night. She had overheard the snide remark that had been made, and she led me to a private corner of the room where we had a little chat. Her soothing words more than made up for the caustic criticism that had been cast my way. She made me promise that I would not turn my back on a talent she encouraged me to pursue, and she pointed out that my so-called friend, was being critical because of jealousy. This girl also did a bit of singing, and she had not been asked to perform on that particular show. 

I’ve pondered that experience quite often. The criticism, which may or may not have been deserved, was so devastating—it nearly discouraged me from ever trying something like that again. It was only because of the positive comments from my YW leader that I pushed past that very bad night. And a couple of years later, I was asked to write and perform a song the night of our high school graduation. During my college years, I was asked to write and perform songs for various occasions, including the theme song for a formal dance, a song for the opening assembly that welcomed incoming freshmen, etc. In short, positive feedback encouraged me to continue forward, developing a talent that was almost stifled. 

Moral of the story: words matter. Use them carefully. I truly think it’s the bridge builders who make the most difference in a world that is focused on tearing things down.