She Can Dish It Out But She Sure Can’t Take It

I go to an art school. A big part of our majors is giving and receiving critique, regardless of which major you’re in.

All professors tend to emphasize that if you plan to work professionally in your field, you will likely be given criticism of your work and advice on how to improve it. While you don’t have to take ALL of the advice or listen to all the criticisms, being able to do so graciously and not being overly harsh — i.e., not being a raging a**hole about it — is a good skill to have. They teach methods of critique and the general language of going about it, and a good chunk of your grade falls into whether or not you give critique at all during class.

My very first taste of critique came from one of my very first classes: a color theory class. Enter [Classmate]. During one of our first-ever critiques in class, [Classmate] got very excited and said, and I quote:

Classmate: “Ooh, I love criticizing people!”

And then she proceeded to rip another poor classmate apart. She criticized the composition, the color choice, and how ugly his art style was. Yes, she straight-up said that to his face!

It literally got to the point where the professor had to step in and tell her — well, the entire class, but everyone could tell that it was directed specifically at her — that that wasn’t constructive or actually useful.

[Classmate] continued to have an “I’m-better-than-everyone” attitude with everyone. She always rolled her eyes whenever someone critiqued her project, and she would laze around during class work periods, insisting that she’d ace the “very easy first project”. Also, she never updated her work based on the critique she’d received.

This was a few years ago, so I don’t remember exactly what [Classmate]’s final piece looked like when the final critique rolled around, but I do remember a very long, awkward pause when it was displayed at the front of the class for everyone to go over.

As more and more people critiqued it, it looked like she was about to pop. She just looked madder and madder.

That lasted right up until the professor gave her own opinion on the piece. Then, [Classmate] just looked comically shocked, as if she hadn’t expected the professor to agree with the rest of us.

There was a fun note in the syllabus that [Classmate] had overlooked. Around twenty percent of our grade was our professionalism, which did include coming to class and participating… but it also involved how we reacted to critique, how we gave it, and if we were implementing any critique.

[Classmate] looked very deflated in the class after grades had been posted. Then, she didn’t attend class for the rest of the quarter. After the first week she didn’t attend class, the professor stopped calling her name while doing the roll call. 

The remaining six weeks of class were practically blissful.