Criticism

Yesterday I had a sad moment of irony. I was at a college up on Salt Lake shooting a promo for their new academic program (ps...It sounds cool, but I am totally not an actor; I'm merely an extra who looks college-aged). The building in Salt Lake was 10 floors, minus the parking structure. On our way down in the elevator from 9 to L, we stopped at almost every floor. Toward the bottom, the elevator was full. To all of us, it felt quite ridiculous when we stopped on floors 6, 5, 4...etc.

The third floor came up and all of us felt the familiar stopping sensation in our stomach. Under my breath, I exclaimed, "Now really, who needs to use the elevator for two floors! Wouldn't the stairs be better at this point?" Only three people closest to me heard. Luckily, they knew me, because what happened next painted me in a terrible light. Because, of course, who would try to enter the elevator so close to the lobby level? A skinny-legged college kid who's only mode of transportation was two 24' wheels attached to the side of his chair. He rolled toward the elevator, noticed how full it was, then slowly rolled backward to catch the next elevator. We watched the door close and continued on our way down, feeling that my prior comment was both unwarranted and grossly ironic.

I honestly think most inspirational speakers are in wheelchairs. They don't need to mention how hard life can be because we already imagine it ourselves when we see someone in that situation. However, they are inspirational because most don't curse their fate. Who could they criticize? All the people who park in their parking spots? Those who use the larger restroom/dressing room at the mall?

It seems like there are plenty of healthy, normal people who feel criticized and abused in the most minute ways (e.g. the media's coverage of certain events). They create criticisms and prejudices for themselves and their community/family/race/religion/anything really. We probably all fall into this category sometime in our lives.

Mark A. Hicks, illustrator