Last night, I attended an artist's reception at a gallery about an hour from home. I was with a friend whose watercolors were on exhibit, along with the works, in various and mixed media, of other members of an art society. Normally, I enjoy going to these types of events because one meets new artists and may get a peak into their work spaces and a chance to discuss what they like, creatively speaking, and why.
I enjoyed chatting to an older woman who had been both an art and music teacher and whose time is now spent creating works from wood cuts and etchings. She was able to explain how each was done and her work is very visually appealing. She allowed me to pick up and examine some of the wood cuts, which were highly textured, and showed me a chisel used to create that.
While I would have been equally fascinated by a few items done by other artists, my friend's running commentary about their efforts was less than flattering, though I did not notice what she referred to as "dreck." Not wanting to prolong her comments, I remained quiet. Deprived of the opportunity to look further on my own, I suggested we go to dinner at a nearby Mom'n Pop.
Upon arrival, the place was fairly full. I pulled up to the end of a table near the front door and my friend sat to one side. As we perused menus, I heard a voice from behind asking my friend if the other party was somehow bothering her. She responded by saying that she was simply staring into space, which I hadn't noticed because I was busily checking out the dinner options.
As I turned to look behind me, my friend made a big deal of saying that one of the two women and I looked a lot alike, which neither the woman nor I particularly appreciated. After some remarks from me trying to be polite to what was obviously a same-sex couple with a small child, we ordered dinner. When a friend of theirs arrived with a child, it was obvious the little girls had either a play or dinner date together and they moved outdoors.
It wasn't until we were in the car on the way home that my friend told me she had difficulty determining whether one of the women was actually a man or not. I was astounded to realize that she had likely stared at this couple in that attempt and had in fact, made them so uncomfortable that they left. Furthermore, she asked me which acted as the man in the relationship, a question I found so antiquated and full of stereotyping that I was completely caught off guard and left speechless, which does not happen often.
This friend is in her sixties, and this is the twenty-first century, not 1950, after all. I know she has gay friends and is very aware of my background and history, so the level of ignorance simply threw me. When I could talk sensibly, I explained that there was no man, but two women, neither of whom was in drag or trying to look like a man, that families come in all forms and that rather than referring to roles, it is more appropriate to use a term such as partners or spouses, whether they are legally married or not.
I can appreciate that she felt comfortable enough with me to talk about this, but my own discomfort with her behavior remains. She is, regrettably not someone with a lot of confidence or self esteem, and she tends to view things negatively, all of which I can deal with in small doses. This, however, was downright boorish. Having been the subject of public staring myself throughout my life, I understand how deeply that can affect someone and I am deeply embarrassed by this person's behavior and her ignorance as well as being sorry that she has been in the world as long as she has without understanding more about people.
