What I learned from my trip to The MET
I often avoid trips to the museum for two reasons — as a child, history was my least favorite subject and my first experiences of museums were not enjoyable — shuttled from one dimly lit exhibit to the next by a guide with little knowledge of how best to engage my nine-year old curiosity. Beautiful things clothed by plastic encasings suggesting I might do harm to the beauty or worth that it presented — why make such an assumption? Why do tours last 30 minutes? I’m sure there are ways to share the same information in half the time. And why can’t I enjoy snacks on these tours? That would at least make the experience manageable. And why can’t you laugh when you see an unclothed statue? What’s wrong with pointing? You don’t see those every day. And we don’t have any in Bedford-Stuyvesant, Brooklyn, my home neighborhood. And why do all the statues and people in paintings look nothing like me? Where are the encasings that have preserved the beauty of my ancestors? Are the “African American” museums the only places I’ll find us? We don’t have art or history American enough to be preserved in these spaces that we have to request parental permission to visit? Who approved of such a thing?
As you can tell, museum trips were not my cup of tea, but I wouldn’t dare miss one. Who wants to be left at school or at home when everyone else goes out and will talk about it tomorrow over recess or in between Ms. Pearly teaching us vocabulary? You’d want to be there to reminisce about the ride on those yellow cheese buses or the times when we’d have to make sure we all boarded the same public train at the exact moment. Those moments of boarding and exiting the train were slightly stressful. What if I didn’t look up at the exact moment everyone was leaving? How would they find me in this underground labyrinth? Is there a stop where all the lost children who were separated from their classes on trips were taken and left for reclaiming? Would we end up enclosed in encasings preserving our youthfulness (the euphemism they’ll use for describing my stupidity for being left behind).
But on this day there were no cheese buses, class trips or likelihood of being left behind. I was an adult this day. I chose the stop where I’d exit which in fact I almost missed because I was napping. Refreshed after my nap, I learned a valuable lesson this trip to the museum.
I met up with my godsister and her husband, newlyweds you can’t help but admire, visiting from Atlanta. I decided the best way to announce my arrival was to sneak up on my godsister who with her husband was holding a spot for me in The MET line. I couldn’t imagine a better way to say “Hello.” She disagreed but thankfully that disagreement was short lived.
After waiting on the long line to enter I needed to purchase a ticket and at the moment I was headed to an indoor line to do so, we were clandestinely approached by a woman who seemed to know the lay of The MET land and offered to take us to a different entrance where we would not need to wait nearly as long. Her approach made me think she was trying to sell us illicit tickets but then realized she was only offering a different path into the museum. My initial reluctance was overcome by my proclivity toward impatience. So I followed. She was right. This encounter taught me an important lesson and even helped me make a different decision about where I would use the restroom later during our trip to The MET that day. Near the exhibit featuring Egyptian pyramids, there was a long line outside of the bathroom. I initially joined, but then remembered the encounter I had with the woman earlier in the day and decided to search for someone who appeared to be more familiar with the museum than I was. I found a woman security officer whom I asked if there were other restrooms nearby. She directed me up a flight of stairs and to my surprise less than a minute from the line I departed that winded through the corridor, there was a restroom with very little traffic. In fact, at one point I was the second of only two people in the entire space.
Thanks to those women with insider knowledge about The MET, I learned two important lessons:
- Where there are crowds does not mean there is a greater wisdom.
- When we are looking for wisdom on how to make it to a certain destination, don’t simply take the path where there are masses. You may arrive at your destination, but what if you could have done so in half the time? Instead ask someone who is more familiar with the territory and the destination you have in mind. This approach is likely to save you precious time.
These lessons were among the gifts offered to me on a day of laughter, reconnection and joy with my godsister and her husband. I offer them to you during this Christmas season in hopes that you too will reap their benefits and pay them forward.
May your Christmas and holiday season be full of joyful lessons and reasons to celebrate all year round. Merry Christmas and happy holidays to you and your loved ones!
