You Have No Class

“You have no class,” says the pretentious thirtysomething behind me.

I am walking through the Orlando Museum of Art with my best friend of like a billion years. She and I are full of love, inspiration, and thoughtfulness because of the incredible exhibits we had seen so far that day. Being twentysomethings, we know the power of social media, not only as a way to document what we are experiencing, but more importantly as a way to share the experience with others.


There was one particular thing I especially wanted to share with my friends and followers; there was an overhead projector (like the ones us 90’s kids remember from math classes back in the day) and a wall covered in different words and drawings. A prompt was displayed next to the projector, along with markers and transparent sheets. The prompt invited viewers to add a word or drawing to the wall, via the transparencies, that demonstrated something we need more of.

My word: creativity.

There are certain sections of the museum that ask that visitors refrain from using photography. This, however, was not one of those sections. I loved the idea of the projector and wall so much that I wanted to share it with everyone I knew. I snapped a few pictures to put on my snapchat and Instagram stories, and that’s when I heard him. This pretentious jerk, walking through the museum with his girlfriend, said in a voice loud enough for me to hear, “No class!”.

I am not one who is easily ashamed or embarrassed.

I turned to look him directly in the eye, acknowledging that I had heard him and was not going to apologize for having done absolutely nothing wrong.

I saw him again, shortly after he had proclaimed I lacked class, in an exhibit where the artist had used pen to painstakingly draw images that were shown one after the other on a screen in the form of a moving image. It was incredible.

And you know what he said to the woman he was with?

“I have a friend who is very skilled in this.”

He turned up his nose and moved on.

From what I saw, she rarely spoke or replied to him. He didn’t seem to mind. I wondered if they were on a fist date and she was counting down the seconds until she could be away from him, or if she was planning how to get out of this terrible relationship. Whatever the situation was, I couldn’t imagine she actually wanted to be there.

But my point is this, never let some nasty person take the joy from your day or make you feel ashamed for doing absolutely nothing wrong.

Be unapologetically you, and enjoy every second the way that YOU want to enjoy it.

Also, don’t be that guy. Don’t judge others for experiencing or enjoying something differently than you do. There is no right way to enjoy art, and there is certainly nothing wrong with sharing it, especially if it has a beautiful meaning that others would benefit from seeing.



Don’t ever be embarrassed to be a twentysomething. Be it, embrace it, share it!

Now get out there and be awesome. 

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